


Unexpected

by Woods2006gal



Series: Addison Sloan series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 91,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woods2006gal/pseuds/Woods2006gal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dealing with the fall out their first meeting with the demon, Addison must also with her slowly changing feelings about one of the Winchester brothers. Part Two of Addison Sloan Series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In My Time of Dying

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Sam opens his eyes. Blood dripped down his face from a cut. The driver’s side door of the Impala is suddenly ripped off the hinges and he looks to see a man. The man wore a trucker hat, had a beard, and jet black eyes. Sam clutches the Colt that was sitting in his lap. “Get back. Or I’ll kill you, I swear to God,” he coldly tells the demon.

“You won’t,” the demon counters. “You’re saving that bullet for someone else.”

Sam cocks the Colt and aims it at the demon’s heart. “You wanna bet?”

The truck driver screams and a large, black cloud erupts from the man’s mouth. The truck driver collapses to the ground. Sam lets out a breath and lets his head fall back against the seat. The truck driver stares in horror at the truck and the smashed up Impala. “Oh my God.”

“Dad,” Sam asks, looking to his right. John doesn’t move or acknowledge him.

“Did I do this,” the trucking driver asks.

Sam ignores him. “Dad! Dean? Dean! Addison? Addison!” A groan comes from the back seat and hope fills Sam. “Dean? Addison?”

“Sam,” Addison painfully moans.

“Ads, just stay with me. Stay awake. Okay? Please.” Sam begs.

Addison lets out a pained chuckle. “I — I’ll do my…best.”

Sam turns to glance in the backseat. Dean was unconscious and covered in blood while Addison was lying on top of him. The right side of the Impala had been smashed in, with the backside taking the brunt of the damage. Sam takes a deep breath. “Ads, is — is Dean…”

“He’s — he’s still alive,” Addison replies.

Sam looks over his unconscious father. He reaches out and lightly shakes him. “Dad? Dad?”

“Sam, I — I can’t feel…”

Sam glances in the rearview mirror. He sees Addison trying to push herself up off of Dean. “Ads, don’t move. Helps on the way. Okay? Just hang on.”

* * *

Addison lets out a groan and slowly opens her eyes. A fluorescent light was above her. Her gaze flies around the hospital room. Soft footsteps enter the room and she looks to see Sam. He rushes over and tightly embraces her. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, ignoring the sterilized hospital smell. She hugs him back, enjoying the warmth from him. “How are you feeling,” Sam asks, letting go of her and sitting on the edge of the bed. He places a hand on her thigh, something that neither of them notice.

“Uh, my back hurts a bit and my leg really, really hurts,” Addison tiredly replies, laying back against the pillows.

“The doctor said your leg was broken pretty badly, Ads. As soon as we got here, they put you in surgery for it.” 

Sam shifts and Addison stares at him. “What?”

“Your back wasn’t broken, but the doctor said there was some damage to your spinal cord. They can’t tell the extent of it until the swelling goes down.”

Addison stares at her feet. “Oh.”

Sam grabs her hand and she looks at him. “Ads, the doctor said that it looked like your spinal cord was still in tact.”

Addison nods. She shifts and winces as pain shoots through her back. “What’s the name on the insurance?”

“McGillicuddy and you’re listed as being married to Dean.”

“I swear if my first name on there is Lucy, someone’s ass is going to be kicked,” Addison says.

Sam chuckles.“No. I’m pretty sure it’s listed as Addison McGillicuddy.”

“How about you? On the outside you seem to be in one piece.”

“I’m fine. Just a few bruises and scrapes.”

Addison reaches up and lightly touches his face, examining the bruises. “Looks like most of it is from that demon.”

“Yeah,” Sam softly answers, slightly leaning into Addison’s touch. He takes a deep breath. “Dad’s fine. Banged up and he has a dislocated shoulder, but he’s gonna be fine. Dean, he’s — he’s in a coma.”

“A coma,” Addison repeats and Sam nods. “He’s gonna wake up, right?”

“They don’t know. The doctor said that he has some serious injuries. And they won’t know the full extent of his injuries until he wakes up.”

“Well, we’ll just have to be hopeful and wait patiently for him to wake up. And if Dean decides to be a stubborn ass, then we’ll find something.”

“Yeah. I’m going to meet Bobby and pick up some stuff. Do you want anything?” Addison shakes her head. Sam hugs her and kisses her cheek. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

Addison pulls back and gives him a soft smile. She leans against the pillows and watches as Sam walks out. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Everything is going to be fine. Everything is gonna be fine,” she mutters to herself. A tear slips out and she quickly wipes it away. Feeling a hand on her thigh, she opens her eyes. There was nothing there. Her hand goes to her neck, searching for her necklace. She sighs, realizing it wasn’t there.

* * *

Dean sighs as he enters Addison’s hospital room. He had spent the majority of the day, wandering around the hospital, trying to figure out what was going on since he had woken up out of his body. Sam was gone and John was asleep. Of course, it didn’t matter since no one could see or hear him anyway. Addison was asleep and Dean turns his gaze to turn various machines that she was hooked up to. He sits down on the edge of her bed. “Man, Ads, this wasn’t supposed to happen,” Dean says. He runs a hand over his face. “We were supposed to find the demon and kill it. After that, I don’t know.” Addison groans and opens her eyes. Hope fills him. “Please tell me that you can hear me, Ads.”

Dean watches as she reaches for the call button. “Mrs. McGillicuddy, how are you doing,” the nurse brightly greets, entering the room.

“My back,” Addison replies, wincing. “It feels like a thousand needles are stabbing me.”

“Well, we can take care of that,” the nurse says, pressing buttons on one of the machines. “Uh oh, looks like you’ve reached the maximum dosage allowed. Let me go get the doctor and see what we can do for you.”

Addison forces a smile as the nurse walks out. “Yeah, you do that. I’ll just lay here in agonizing pain.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, that’s gonna get you the pain killers you want, Ads.” He watches as she rolls her eyes and he pauses. “Ads?”

Addison shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Dean covers her hand with his. “God, I could really go for drink,” she mutters.

Dean shakes his head in amusement. “Yeah. You and me both, Ads.”

* * *

Addison stares at the wheelchair with anger and determination written in her dark brown eyes. She had pulled the blanket off of her left leg. The red nail polish on her toes was chipped. She had been staring at her foot ever since the nurse had taken away the lunch tray. “I can do this,” Addison tells herself. She concentrates on moving her toes, but nothing happens. She looks up when footsteps near and sees Sam run into her room. “What’s wrong?”

“He wants to summon the fucking demon. Dean is dying, you have a spinal injury, and all he cares about is getting his fucking revenge,” Sam angrily says, shutting the door to her room.

“I’m sure John cares about Dean getting better.”

Sam shakes his head. “He had me get this stuff, said it was for protection from the demon. Except Bobby said it’s used for summoning the damn thing. Dean…he almost just died and all Dad cares about is his stupid obsession.”

Addison pats her bed and he sits down next to her. She wraps her arm around him and rests her cheek against his chest. “Everything’s gonna be fine, Sam. You just gotta have faith that everything will be fine.”

Sam rests his cheek on the top of her head. “When I was watching them work on Dean, I felt something.”

“Like what?”

“Like Dean was there. Just out of sight.”

Addison sighs. “Coma patients have been known to become spirits.”

Sam sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well, then you know what you gotta get, right? It’s the easiest way to check and make sure.”

“Yeah.” Sam presses a soft kiss to her cheek before standing up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Sam,” Addison says before he can walk out of the room. “Do you know where my necklace is?”

“No, but I’ll find it,” Sam replies. He shoots her a sad smile then walks out of the room. 

* * *

A knock on the door causes Addison to look up from the tray of food that had been delivered. John enters the room, his left arm in a sling and fully dressed. “How are you feeling,” he asks, sitting down in the chair next to her bed.

“Been better. The doctor says that I gotta have the cast on for at least six weeks. And my back’s fine, except for some pain and swelling. But the doctor said I’ll be okay,” Addison says, leaning back. “How about you?”

“I’m fine.”

Addison stares at John. “Don’t summon the demon, John. You just…you shouldn’t do it.”

John nods in realization. “Sam told you.”

“He didn’t have to.” Addison winces as she shifts. “Dean’s gonna get better. We’ll find a way to help him. But right now, his body just needs time to heal. Dean wouldn’t want you to do this. Please, don’t summon the demon.”

John shakes his head and stands up. Addison’s caught off guard when he hugs her. She awkwardly hugs him back. “Take care of them, Addison.”

Addison shakes her head. “You don’t need to do this, John.”

John pulls back and places a hand on her shoulder. “Take care of him, Addison.”

Addison sighs, knowing there was no way she would be able to talk John out of his idea. “Of course,”  she softly replies. She watches as John walks out of her room and crosses her arms over her chest. She leans back against the pillows and shakes her head in disbelief. “Fuck.”

* * *

Addison wheels herself into Dean’s room. It hadn’t been easy, but she was able to talk a doctor into letting her use a wheelchair to see Dean. He was lying in the bed. Numerous tubes were attached to him. “Oh, Dean,” she softly says, wheeling closer to the bed. She grabs his hand, being mindful of the IV and squeezes. “Dean, you gotta wake up. I-I can’t lose you. You’re my best friend. I need you in my life. I just…I can’t lose you, Dean. You’re one of the most important people in my life.” She wipes away the tears and takes a deep breath. “So, please, wake up.”

She’s still holding Dean’s hand when Sam walks in. He was carrying a large paper bag. “Hey,” he greets, giving her a soft smile. He sits down on the floor and takes out the ouija board. Addison pushes herself out of the wheelchair and Sam’s immediately at her side. “Ads—”

“If you think I’m missing out on this, then you are out of your damn mind, Sam Winchester,” Addison tells him.

“You have to stay in the chair, Addison. Unless you want your back injury to get worse,” Sam argues, gently pushing her back into the wheelchair. He smiles when she huffs and looks away. He sits down on the floor next to her wheelchair and sets up the ouija board.

“You know, when I was fourteen my dad caught me using one of these. He was so pissed. But I think it was more because I wanted to talk to Napoleon. He wasn’t real big on me trying to talk to nineteenth century dicks who wanted to take over the world.”

Sam shakes his head. “I need to tell them to lower your morphine.”

“Or you could tell them to up it,” Addison mutters and Sam shoots her a look. “What?”

Sam turns back to the ouija board. “Dean, we think maybe you’re around and if you are…don’t make fun of me for this, but, um, we can use this to talk.”

Sam places both of his hands on the planchette. “Dean, if you are here, then give us a sign,” Addison says and Sam stares at her. “Fine. Dean, are you here?”

The planchette moves to the word ‘yes’ and they smile. “It’s good to hear from you, man. It hasn’t been the same without you, Dean,” Sam says. The planchette moves to the letters ‘H’ and ‘U.’ “Dean, what? H…U…” The planchette moves to the letter ’N.’

“Dean, are you hunting,” Addison softly asks, exchanging a look with Sam. The planchette moves to ‘Yes.’

“Dean, it’s in the hospital, what you’re hunting — do you know what it is,” Sam questions. The planchette doesn’t move. “What is it?” The planchette moves to the letters ‘R’ ‘E’ ‘A’ ‘P.’

“Oh God,” Addison says. “It’s a reaper.”

“Dean, is it after you?” The planchette moves to the word ‘Yes.’ Sam takes his hands off the planchette. “If it’s here naturally…there’s no way to stop it.”

“No. Fuck that.” Addison says, shaking her head. “We will find Death and — and break its leg with a baseball bat or something.”

“Dad’ll know what to do.” Sam replies, standing up. “I’ll be back real quick.”

Addison looks at Dean’s body. “I swear to God, if you even think about feeling me up, I’ll kick your ghost ass, Dean. I mean it. I’m not in the mood to recreate _Ghost._ ”

“Dad wasn’t in his room,” Sam says, reentering Dean’s room. He holds up John’s journal. “But I got his journal. There could be something in here.” He starts to look through the journal, but stops. “Shouldn’t we get you back to your room, Ads?”

Addison shrugs. “They know where I am.”

“Just making sure.”

* * *

Addison sighs as she washes her hands in the small bathroom attached to Dean’s room. She and Sam had been unable to find anything in John’s journal that could help them with the reaper. She grabs a paper towel and dries her hands before tossing it in the trashcan. Taking a deep breath, Addison slowly pushes herself out of the wheelchair. A searing pain shoots through her lower back and she quickly sits down. She opens the door and stops.

“We couldn’t find anything in the book,” Sam says to Dean. “I don’t know how to help you. But me and Ads, we’ll keep trying, all right? As long as you keep fighting.” Sam sadly chuckles. “I mean, come on, you can’t leave me here alone with Dad, we’ll kill each other, you know that. And we both know Ads isn’t as good as you at running interference between me and Dad.” He sighs. “Dean, you gotta hold on. You can’t go now, man. We were just starting to be brothers again. Can you hear me?”

Addison pulls the door open wider and wheels out of the bathroom. “Hey,” she softly says.

“Guess you heard that, huh?”

“Yeah.” Addison grabs his hand and squeezes. “Sam, we’re gonna do everything we can. It’s just gonna take some time. We’ll start in the morning. We’ll look through every book we can think of, call everyone that might be able to help. But we are gonna do everything we can.”

“Thanks—” Dean jumps and gags on the breathing tube. Sam and Addison stare in shock. “Dean?”

“Sam, go get help,” Addison says, snapping out of the shock. She wheels over to the bed as Sam makes his way to the door.

“Help,” Sam shouts. “We need help!”

* * *

Addison sits next to Dean’s bed while Sam stood next to her with a protective hand on the back of her wheelchair. Dean was lying the bed, perfectly fine. “I can’t explain it,” the doctor says, reading the chart. “The edema’s vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You’ve got some kind of angel watching over you.”

“Thanks, doc,” Dean replies and they watch as the doctor walks out of the room. He looks at Sam and Addison, who had given him a cliff notes version over what had happened over the past few days. “So, you guys said a reaper was after me?”

“Yeah,” Sam answers.

“How’d I ditch it?”

“No clue,” Addison replies. “Dean, you honestly don’t remember a thing?”

Dean shakes his head. “No. Except this pit in my stomach. Something’s wrong.”

A knock comes from the door and they all look to see John. “How you feeling, dude,” John asks, entering the room.

Dean shrugs. “Fine, I guess. I’m alive.”

John lightly smiles. “That’s what matters.”

“Where were you last night,” Sam demands.

“I had some things to take care of.”

“Well, that’s specific.”

“Sam,” Addison softly says, giving him a disapproving look.

“Did you go after the demon,” Sam asks, ignoring Addison.

“No,” John answers.

Sam scoffs. “You know, why don’t I believe you right now?”

John sadly smiles at his youngest son. “Can we not fight? You know, half the time we’re fighting, I don’t know what we’re fighting about. We’re just butting heads. Sammy, I — I’ve made some mistakes. But I’ve always done the best I could. I just don’t wanna fight anymore, okay?”

Sam stares at his father, taken back. “Dad, are you all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just tired. Hey, Sam, Addison, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Sam says, grabbing Addison’s chair. Addison lightly pats Dean’s leg before Sam wheels her out.

“We should get some pudding,” Addison says as they move towards the elevator. Once they’re far enough from the room, she delivers a smack to his stomach. “What were you thinking?”

“Sorry,” Sam replies. They reach the elevator and he presses the down button. The elevator doors open and they get in. Addison presses the button for the floor where the cafeteria was. “I was just…I wanted to know, Ads. He goes missing for the entire night and Dean suddenly gets better—”

Addison sighs. “Sam, I get where you’re coming form. Believe me, I do. But I just think you should’ve waited. You kinda brought down the mood there. We’re all alive and healthy and in one piece.” 

“Except you’re not, Ads.”

“Yeah, but I’m alive. And that’s what counts.” Sam sighs, knowing that she was right. “Hey, did you ever find my necklace?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam replies, pulling a small plastic bag out of his pocket with a small gold necklace inside. He hands it to her and she shoots him a thankful smile. She moves to put it on but he quickly takes over for her. “There you go.” His hand rests on the back of her neck.

“Thank you,” Addison softly says. He watches as she fingers the gold cross and he squeezes her shoulder.

* * *

Addison wheels into Dean’s room and tosses a pudding cup into his lap. Sam had went to look for John, while she made her way to Dean’s room. “Courtesy of the hospital caf,” she says, holding out a spoon.

“Where’s Sam,” Dean asks, taking the spoon from her.

“He went to find your Dad to give him the world’s best cup of coffee.”

“How do you feel?”

“Could be better, but I’m alive and that’s what counts.” Feeling his gaze on her, Addison sighs. “The doctor said that there was some damage to my spinal cord.”

“Can you walk?”

“I don’t know. I can’t…I can’t feel my toes,” Addison quietly confesses. She clears her throat. “How about you, Mr. I Just Woke Up From A Coma?”

“Fine. Any idea when we can—” Dean stops when Sam rushes into the room.

“It’s Dad. Something’s wrong,” Sam tells them. Dean throws the covers back and Sam helps him out of the bed. The trio makes their way down the hallway. They reach John’s room and see him lying on a bed, with a doctor and nurses working on him.

A nurse walks over to them. “No, no, no, it’s our Dad. It’s our Dad,” Dean tells her.

“I’m sorry, you can’t be here,” the nurse replies.

“Okay, let’s try again — an amp of atropine,” the doctor says.

“I’m sorry, but you have to leave,” the nurse tells them.

“It’s our Dad,” Dean repeats. Addison reaches up and grasps Sam’s hand. “Come on.”

“Okay. Stop compression,” the doctor orders.

“Come on, come on.”

A nurse touches John’s wrist. “Still no pulse,” she says. Sam squeezes Addison’s hand as a long beep comes from the heart monitor.

“Okay, that’s it, everybody,” the doctor says. “I’ll call it. Time of death — 10:41 A.M.”


	2. Everybody Loves A Clown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural; even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison groans as she reaches for the fabric softener that was sitting on a shelf. A week had passed since John’s funeral. And one day had passed since she had been released from the hospital. They boys had taken Bobby’s offer to stay with him and she had joined them. Dean had dedicated himself to working on the Impala while Sam spent most of his time visiting Addison in the hospital. But he did make sure to check on his older brother periodically.

A warm body comes up behind Addison and grabs the fabric softener. It moves back and Addison turns around to see Sam, who had an unamused look on his face. She shoots him a thankful smile. “Thanks.” she says, taking the box from him. “You saved me from having to go and get a chair. Which probably would have led to me falling and busting my ass on the floor.”

“Which would’ve landed you right back in the hospital, Addison.” Sam replies, watching her open the box.

“Nope, it would’ve given me a bruised ego and a bruised ass.”

“You’re supposed to take it easy.”

“I am. It’s why I’m doing the laundry.”

Sam shakes his head in disbelief. “Have you talked to Dean today?”

“This morning. I stopped him and asked if he wanted me to do his laundry. I think he grunted ‘yes,’ but I’m not sure.” Addison slams the dryer door shut and turns it on.

“I was gonna go talk to him.”

“Well, it ain’t exactly hard to find him, Sam. Dean’s routine is like an elf’s routine at Santa’s workshop.” Sam smiles and she pushes him towards the door of the small laundry room. “C’mon lets go talk to Grumpy.”

“If Dean’s Grumpy then, which one am I?”

“Dopey. But everyone loves Dopey. Hey, did you ever figure out the password for that voicemail?”

“Yeah. It’s what I want to talk to Dean about.” Sam answers a they walk out of the house. He helps Addison down the stairs and they walk towards where Dean was working on the Impala. “How’s your leg?”

“Fine. Sometimes it hurts, but that’s supposed to be expected. And no, I haven’t put any pressure on it. You don’t have to worry about me, Sam. I’m going to be as good as new in a few months,” Addison replies.

“Just remember what the doctor said about taking it easy, Ads. You’re lucky that your back and spinal cord wasn’t damaged worse.”

“I’ll remember that, Dad.” Addison says and Sam shoots her an unamused look. They reach the totaled Impala and see a pair of legs sticking out from under it. Addison smirks at Sam and pokes Dean’s leg with a crutch. “Hey, Caveman, how’s it going?”

“Slow.” Dean answers.

Sam helps Addison sit down on a nearby stool. “Yeah? Need any help?” Sam asks him.

Dean scoffs. “What, you under a hood? I’ll pass.”

“Need anything else then?”

Dean rolls out from underneath his beloved car and stands up. “Stop it, Sam.” he says, walking over to the workbench.

“Stop what?”

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I’m okay. I’m okay. Really. I promise.”

“All right. Dean, it’s just…we’ve been at Bobby’s for over a week now and you haven’t brought up Dad once.”

“You know what, you’re right. Come here. I’m gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug — maybe even slow dance.”

Sam glares at his older brother. “Don’t patronize me, Dean, Dad is dead! The Colt is gone and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this and you’re acting like nothing happened.”

“Guys.” Addison wearily says and they ignore her.

“What do you want me to say?” Dean asks his younger brother.

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren’t you angry? Don’t you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long, buried, underneath this damn car.” Sam argues.

Dean scoffs. “Revenge, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Are you making heads or tails of any of Dad’s research? Cause I sure as hell ain’t. But you know what, when we finally find it — oh no, wait. Like you said, the Colt’s gone. But I’m sure you’ve figured out another way to kill it. We’ve got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So, you know what? The only thing I can do is work on the car.”

“Well, we’ve got something, all right? That’s what I came out here to tell you.” Sam takes John’s cell phone out of his pocket. “It’s one of Dad’s old phones. It took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail. Listen to this.” He turns on the speaker before playing the message.

“John, its Ellen. Again. Look, don’t be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me,” a woman’s voice says.

Sam snaps the phone shut and puts it in his back pocket. “That message is four months old.”

“Dad saved that chick’s message for four months,” Dean questions.

“Yeah.”

“Well, who’s Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad’s journal?”

“No. But I ran a trace on the phone number and I got an address.”

Dean’s silent for a moment, then nods. “Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars.”

“We don’t have to,” Addison says and they look at her. “Bobby let me leave my dad’s car here. I couldn’t take it to New Haven with me. It still runs and everything.” Dean nods and turns back to the workbench. Addison pokes his leg with the crutch. “Hey, if you’re gonna ride in my car, then you to bathe.”

* * *

Addison watches as Sam grasps the tarp and pulls it off to reveal a cherry red, 1968 Mustang Fastback. An Irish flag was in the corner of the back window. A bumper sticker of Darth Vader was on tieback with the words ‘Come to the Dark Side, we have cookies’ on it. “Patrick was such a nerd,” Dean comments as Addison unlocks the trunk.

“Hey, if my dad was alive, he’d be pissed that George Lucas keeps missing with the original trilogy,” Addison replies, moving to the side to let Dean and Sam put there bags in the back. “And he wasn’t exactly a big fan of _Phantom Menace._ But I’m positive he’d love the new _Doctor Who_.”

Dean climbs into the driver’s seat as Sam helps Addison in to the back. She lets out a pained groan and a concerned look crosses Sam’s face. “Are you—”

“I’m fine, Sam,” Addison interrupts. Dean starts the Mustang and ‘Nsync blasts from the speakers. Sam laughs at the look on Dean’s face. Annoyed, Dean ejects the tape and tosses it in the backseat. Addison leans forward and grabs the tape. “I was wondering where I had left this.”

* * *

The Mustang pulls up in front of a building sitting in the middle of an empty field. Dean turns the car off and climbs out. “I feel like a fucking sardine,” he says, stretching. He watches as Sam climbs out before turning to help Addison out of the backseat.

“Well, it was either this or a minivan,” Addison counters as they look around and don’t see anything other than the bar.

They make their way over to the main door of the bar. Dean tries opening it, but finds that it’s locked. “Hey,” Dean says.

“Yeah,” Sam asks.

“Did you bring the uh—”

“Of course,” Sam interrupts. He takes out the lock pick kit and tosses it to Dean. Quietly, Dean picks the lock and they enter the empty bar. Tables were scattered around. Arcade games were against a wall. The bar took up the right side while tables were spread around. There was a platform where a couple of pool tables were and on one of the table a man around Dean’s and Addison’s age sleeping. “Hey, buddy?” The person doesn’t move. “I’m guessing that isn’t Ellen.”

“Probably not,” Addison says. Sam walks through a door, leaving Addison and Dean to look around the empty bar.

“Oh, God, please let that be a rifle,” Dean says and Addison looks at him with an eyebrow raised.

“No, I’m just real happy to see you,” a female voice replies. “Don’t move.”

“We’re not moving, copy that. You know, you should know something, Miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don’t wanna put it right against their back. Cause it makes it real easy to do…” Dean spins around and grabs the gun. Addison moves back and sees that it’s a young, blonde woman. “That.” The woman punches Dean and takes the gun back. “Sam! We need some help in here! I can’t see. I can’t even see.”

The door Sam went through opens and they look to see him enter, with his hands on his head. An older brunette woman followed him, holding a gun to his head. “Sorry. I can’t right now. I’m, uh, a little tied up,” he explains.

“Sam? Dean,” the woman questions, looking between the boys. “Winchester?”

“Yeah,” the brothers answer.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Mom, you know these guys,” the blonde asks.

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” She lowers her gun from Sam, laughing. “Hey, I’m Ellen. That’s my daughter, Jo.”

“Hey,” Jo greets, lowering the rifle.

The women stare at Addison, waiting. “Oh, hi, I’m Addison Sloan,” Addison replies, giving them a nervous smile.

Ellen nods and looks at Dean. “I’ll get ya some ice for that,” she says and walks behind the bar. Jo goes to put the rifle up then joins her mother behind the bar. Dean walks over and sits on one of the stools. Sam stares in disbelief at his older brother. He helps Addison onto a stool before sitting down between her and Dean. Ellen hands Dean some ice wrapped in a towel. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Dean replies, placing the ice on the are that was starting to bruise and swell. “You called our Dad and said you could help — help with what?”

“Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it,” Ellen answers.

“Was there an article in the Demon Hunter’s Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?”

Ellen shrugs. “Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again, including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.”

Dean scoffs. “Oh, yeah? How come he’s never mentioned you before?”

“You’d have to ask him that.”

A hurt look quickly crosses Dean’s face before being masked. “So, why exactly do we need your help?”

“Hey, don’t do me any favors. Look, if you don’t want my help, fine. Don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn’t have sent you if…” Realization crosses Ellen’s face. “He didn’t send you. He is all right, isn’t he?”

“No. No, he isn’t. It was the demon, we think. It, um…just got him before he got it, I guess,” Sam says. Addison reaches over and rubs his back.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’re all right,” Dean tells Ellen.

“Really. I know how close you and your dad—”

“Really, lady, I’m fine,” Dean snaps.

“So, look, if you can help…we could use all the help we can get,” Sam says.

“Well, we can’t. But Ash will.”

“Who’s Ash,” Addison questions.

“Ash,” Ellen shouts.

The person sleeping on the pool table shoots up. He looks around, clearly startled. “What? Closing time,” he asks in a Southern accent.

Addison raises an eyebrow seeing the mullet and plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off. “That’s Ash,” she disbelievingly asks. Ash rolls off the table and walks through the door to the back.

“Mm-hmm. He’s a genius,” Jo tells her.

Addison exchanges a look with Sam, clearly saying she would believe it when she saw it. “Ads, you got the folder,” Dean asks. Addison nods and digs through her messenger bag, before pulling out a thick file. She slides it down the bar to him. Ash comes back out and sits down at the corner of the bar. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. This guy’s no genius. He’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

Ash laughs. “I like you.”

“Thanks.”

“Just give him a chance,” Jo says.

“All right.” Dean slide the folder to Ash. “This stuff’s about a year’s worth of our dad’s work, so, uh…let’s see what you make of it.”

Ash opens the folder and starts sifting through the papers. “Come on. This shit ain’t real. Ain’t nobody can track a demon like this.”

Sam exchanges a look with Dean. “Our dad could,” he says.

Ash pauses. “These are nonparametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean…damn. They’re signs — omens. If you can track ‘em, you can track this demon — you know, like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? It ain’t fun.”

“So, can you track it,” Addison asks.

Ash looks at her, glancing at her cleavage before looking at her face. “Yeah, with this, I think so. But its gonna take time. Uh, give me…fifty-one hours.”

Ash gathers the papers and puts them in the folder. He starts to leave. “Hey, man,” Dean says.

“Yeah?”

“By the way, I, uh, I dig the haircut.”

Ash tosses his hair back and Addison stifles a laugh. “All business up, party in the back. You wanna help me, Addison?”

“Uh, no thank you,” Addison awkwardly replies. Ash turns and walks through the back door. Ellen starts wipingdown the bar as Jo goes to wipe down the tables. Addison and Sam watch as Dean joins Jo. Addison leans in close to Sam. “Is it strange that I’m oddly proud that I got hit on, despite my broken leg?”

Sam shakes his head. “Yeah, it’s a little strange,” he replies and notices something behind Ellen. “Hey, Ellen, what is that?”

Ellen turns and looks at what Sam was pointing to. “It’s a police scanner. We keep tabs on things—”

“No, no, no, no. The folder.”

Ellen grabs the folder and places it on the bar in front of Sam. “Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look if you want.”

“Thanks.” Addison leans in close and reads over his shoulder. There were newspaper clippings about a couple being murdered in the the middle of the night. The only survivor was the couple’s daughter, who claimed a clown did it, the disappeared. “What do you think?”

“Sounds like Bozo went psycho,” Addison replies, leaning away.

“Or it could be something. We’ll check this out, Ellen.” Ellen nods and Sam turns to where Dean was sitting. “Dean, come here. Check this out.”

Dean stands up and walks over to them. “Yeah.”

“A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of — looks to me like there might be a hunt.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, I told her we’d check it out.” Dean looks at Addison, who shrugs in response. He lets out a sigh and Sam smiles at Addison.

* * *

Sam watches as Dean walks over to where the clowns were waiting. The conversation that he had the night before with Dean kept repeating in his mind. He knew that Dean had something to say, but wasn’t going to. He leans over the seat and shakes Addison awake. Sam climbs out of the Mustang and pulls the front seat forward. Addison groans and sits up. “Are we here,” she yawns.

“Yeah. How do you feel,” Sam asks. He helps her out of the backseat and hands her the crutches.

“Tired,” Addison answers, pushing the front seat back and sitting down. “Where’s Dean? The little boys’ room?”

Sam chuckles. “He went to talk to the clowns or the cops. We talked when while you were asleep. He asked me why I wanted to do this case.”

“And what’d you say?”

“That Dad would’ve wanted us. He didn’t really say anything after that.” Addison sits up and Sam turns to see Dean walking over to them. “More murders?”

“Two more last night,” Dean answers. “Apparently, they were ripped to shreds and they had a little boy with them.”

“Who fingered a clown.” Addison snorts and Dean stare at him. “What?”

“Yes, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air.”

“Guys, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying ti find a needle in a stack of needles. I mean, it could be anything,” Addison says.

“Well, it’s bound to give off EMF, so we’ll just have to scan everything.”

“Nice. No one will notice that all.”

Dean smirks, his gaze noticing a ‘Help Wanted’ sign. “Guess we’ll just have to blend in, except you, McCrutch.”

* * *

Addison hobbles over to where she sees Sam standing. He wore a red jacket, with the words ‘Cooper’s Carnival’ printed on the back in white letters. He held a garbage bag and a stick. He places a piece of paper in the bag and looks up. “Hey. So, I checked the ferris wheel and the funnel cake stand. Both are clean,” Addison says and Sam smiles. “What?”

Sam wipes some powder sugar from the corner of her mouth. “You had some left over,” he replies, wiping his hand on his jeans.

“Oh, thanks. Have you checked out the Funhouse yet?” Sam glances at the entrance to the Funhouse, which was a large clown. Addison rolls her eyes and starts walking towards the entrance. “Man up, Sam.”

Sam quickly catches up with her. He helps Addison up the stairs and they enter the Funhouse. He takes out the EMF meter and holds it out as they walk through the dark building. Neon pain, lit by black lights, showed different monsters and displays painted on the walls. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet, Addison.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey, just because you’re not scared of anything, doesn’t mean the rest of use aren’t.”

“I’m scared of stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Well, if you knew, then it wouldn’t be a secret,” Addison counters. A skeleton suddenly falls down from the ceiling and she stumbles back into Sam. She moves around it and sees the amused look on Sam’s face. “I wasn’t sacred, just startled. I bet you would’ve done the same thing.”

Sam holds up the EMF meter up to the skeleton and nothing happens. He shoves the EMF in his pocket and they continue walking. “We should call Dean.”

“You do know those bones probably weren’t even real, right? They probably came from a Halloween store or something.”

“What if they are?” Sam smiles when he sees that Addison is at a loss for words. He laughs when she pushes past him. They continue through the Funhouse and he helps her down the stairs at the exit. They move from the crowded area and Sam pulls out his cell phone, before dialing Dean.

“Speaker,” Addison reminds.

Sam presses a button on his phone and puts it to where they both can hear. “Hello,” Dean asks.

“Hey,” Sam replies.

“What’s the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown.”

“Actually, it was a skeleton,” Addison answers.

“Like a real human skeleton?”

“In the Funhouse. Listen, I was thinking what if the spirit isn’t attached to a curse object? What if it’s attached to its own remains,” Sam tells him.

“Did the bones give off EMF?”

“No. But I don’t think they’re—” Addison starts.

“We should check it out anyway. I’m heading to you,” Dean interrupts and hangs up the phone.

“I hate when he does that.” Addison reaches into her pocket and pulls out a twenty. “I’m gonna find a table to sit down. Get me a hot dog, with the works, and some fries. And a beer, if they have any.”

“Didn’t you just eat a funnel cake,” Sam asks.

“Sam, that was research. I was checking to see if the booth was clean. This is lunch. And if there’s enough left over, get yourself something,” Addison tells him, then walks away. Sam shakes his head in disbelief and walks over to the food stalls.

When Dean shows up, he sees them sitting at a table, eating. “What took you so long,” Sam asks.

“Long story,” Dean replies.

Dean stares at Addison as she takes a bite of her hot dog. “Mommy, look at the clown,” a little girl says. They all look to where the girl is pointing, but don’t see anything. They watch as the girl and mother walk away. The trio exchanges a look.

* * *

Dean parks the Mustang a couple of blocks down from the house. He turns it off and leans back in the seat. They had decided to follow the family home from the carnival and wait outside for the clown to show up. “Dean, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown,” Sam says, breaking the silence.

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown,” Dean corrects. “I never said it was real.”

Addison rolls her eyes when she sees Dean pick up his shotgun. She jabs him her crutch. “Dean, put the damn gun down.”

Dean lays the shotgun in his lap. “Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brothers Circus in ’81 and their evil clown apocalypse. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

“So, you think whatever the spirit is attached to, Cooper just brought it with him,” Sam asks.

“Something like that. I can’t believe we keep talking about clowns.” Dean glances in the back seat where Addison was stretched out. Her broken leg was propped up on a pillow. “And I’d like to know why we couldn’t park in front of the house, Addison.”

“Because if something goes wrong, we’re not ditching my car and I’m sure as hell not walking,” Addison explains.

Silence settles over the Mustang. Dean and Addison fall asleep while Sam stays awake. After a few hours, lights inside the house turn on. “Dean,” Sam says, shaking his brother awake.

Quietly, the brothers climb out of the Mustang and runs towards the house. Each of them carried a shotgun filled with rock salt. They round the corner of the house and Dean picks the lock for the back door. Separately, they hide. The little girl comes around the corner, holding the hand of a clown. Sam grabs the girl. “Hey,” Dean says and the clown looks at him. Dean shoots the clown with rock salt and the clown falls to the ground as the little girl screams. Suddenly, the clown stands back up. “Sam, watch out!” Sam quickly moves and the clown runs through the glass door.

“What’s going on here,” a voice bellows and the brothers turn to see the parents of the little girl standing there.

Sam quickly lets go of the little girl. He and Dean run through the broken door and down the street to the Mustang. They climb in and slam the doors shut, waking Addison in the process. Dean starts the car and peels away from the street. “What the hell,” she tiredly asks.

“Don’t ask,” Dean replies. Addison shakes her head in disbelief and settles back in the seat.

* * *

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” Dean says, breaking the silence as they sit on the side of a county road. He was sitting in the driver’s seat while Sam sat next to Addison on the ground.

“Yeah, what’s that,” Addison asks from where she was leaning against the a tree.

“We’re not dealing with a spirit. That rock salt hit something solid.”

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible,” Sam suggests.

“Yeah and dresses up like a clown for kicks? Did it say anything in Dad’s journal?”

“Not that I could find,” Addison replies.

Dean watches as Sam pulls out his cell phone and starts dialing a number. “Who you calling?”

“Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something,” Sam replies. He pauses and looks up. “Hey, you think, uh, you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?”

“No way.”

“Then why didn’t he tell us about her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they had some sort of falling out.”

“Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody,” Sam says and Dean remains quiet. “Don’t get all maudlin on me, man.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this strong, silent thing of yours. It’s crap. I’m over it. This isn’t just anyone we’re talking about. This is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

“You know what, back, off, all right? Just because I’m not caring and sharing like you want me to—”

“No, no, no. That’s not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I’m your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Dude, I’m okay. I’m okay! I swear, the next person who asks me if I’m okay, I’m gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues. Quit dumping ‘em on me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just think it’s really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It’s like, ‘Oh, what would Dad want me to do?’ Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with the man. I mean, hell, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him and now that he’s dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I’m sorry, Sam, but you can’t. It’s too little, too late.”

“Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this! I’m dealing with Dad’s death! Are you?”

Sam stares at his older brother for a moment. “I’m gonna call Ellen,” he says and walks away.

“I swear, you two fight more than a married couple,” Addison mutters and ignores the unamused look Dean sends her. She watches as he walks into the woods.

“Hey,” Sam says, walking back over. He frowns when he doesn’t see his older brother and looks at Addison.

“He went to mark his territory,” Addison says.

Sam shakes his head in amusement. Hearing footsteps, he turns to see his older brother. “Rakshasa.”

Dean frowns. “What’s that?”

“Ellen’s best guess. It’s a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited to.”

“They dress up like clowns and children invite ‘em in.”

“Yeah.”

“So, why don’t they just eat the kids,” Addison asks.

Sam shrugs. “No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?”

“What else did you find out?”

“Well, apparently, rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects.”

“Ewe.”

“Yeah and they have to feed a few times every twenty to thirty years — slow metabolism, I guess."

“That makes sense — the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in ’81,” Dean says.

“Right. Probably more before that.”

“Sam, who do we know that worked both shows?”

“Cooper?”

“Cooper,” Dean confirms.

“You know, that picture of his father — that looked just like him.”

“You think maybe it was him?”

“Well, who knows how old he is?”

“Did Ellen say how to kill ‘em,” Addison asks.

“Legend goes a dagger made of pure brass.”

“I think I know where to get one of those,” Dean replies.

“Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we’re gonna make damn sure it’s him.”

“Oh, you’re such a stickler for details, Sammy.” Sam shoots him an annoyed look. “All right, me and Ads will round up the blade. You go check if Cooper’s got bedbugs.”

“Why can’t I just sit in the car or be look out or something,” Addison asks.

“Because you’ll just end up bitching about having to sit in the car,” Dean answers and Addison just shakes her head in disbelief.

* * *

“Well, I got all kinds of knives. I don’t know if I got a brass one, though,” Barry, an older, blind man, tells Dean and Addison as they enter his tent. Barry taps the side of the the trunk sitting on the floor. “Check the trunk.”

Addison watches as Dean kneels down and opens the trunk. She looks over his shoulder and sees a clown outfit and a bright red wig. Dean looks at Barry. “You,” he asks.

“Me.” Barry takes off his sunglass and his face changes. Addison takes a step back, bumping into Dean. Barry disappears and they look around.

“Come on,” Dean says, wrapping an arm around Addison’s waist. They walk over to the door and she stands back as he tries to open it.

A knife flies out of nowhere and embeds itself in the wall, inches from Addison’s head. She stares at it, wide eyed. “Dean, hurry up,” she says. Another knife flies at them as Dean gets the door open. They rush out of the tent. “This is why I wanted to stay in the car, Dean!”

“I don’t blame ya,” Dean says, as they round a corner.

“Hey!” They stop and turn to see Sam running to catch up with them. “So, Cooper thinks I’m a pepping Tom, but it’s not him.”

“Yeah, we know,” Addison replies.

“It’s the blind guy. He’s here somewhere,” Dean explains.

Sam looks between them. “Well, did you gets get the—”

“The brass blades? No. It’s just been one of those days.”

“I got an idea. Come on.”

Sam runs to the Funhouse and they follow. As they go through the house, a door suddenly closes between Dean and Sam. “Sam,” Dean shouts.

“Dean, Ads! Dean, follow the maze, okay,” Sam yells.

Dean waits a second for Addison to catch up. “This way,” Addison tells him and they make their way through the maze. They reach Sam in a room with an organ in it and see him trying to pull off one of the pipes. “Hey.”

Sam turns and glances at them. “Hey. Where is it?”

“We don’t know. I mean, shouldn’t we see his clothes walking around,” Dean asks. A knife flies at him and pins him to the wall through the leather jacket he was wearing. “Sam!”

A knife flies at Addison and she dodges it, falling to the ground in the process. “Sam, hurry up,” Addison shouts as another knife flies at her.

Sam finally breaks off the pipe and looks around the room. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know,” Dean answers, watching Addison cover her head when another knife flies at her.

“Dean, above you,” Addison says and he looks up to see a red lever above him. He stretches and is barely able to grasp it. He pulls and steam comes out of the vents.

Dean sees an outline of a man start to form. “Sam, behind you,” he says. “Behind you!” Sam shoves the pipe behind him and lets go. He moves away to see a figure flash in the steam before falling to the ground. Dean pulls the knife pinning him to the wall and joins Sam to stare at the pile of clothing on the floor, along with the pipe. “I hate Funhouses.”

“I say one of you help me up and then we go raid the funnel cake stand,” Addison says. Dean exchanges an look with Sam and walks over to her. He helps her up and throws her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“C’mon, Sam, lets get out of here,” Dean tells him, walking out of the room.

* * *

Addison walks out of the bathroom and stops when she sees Sam standing in front of the door. They had driven back to the Roadhouse to see if Ash had found anything. “Yeah, Sam, it’s totally not creepy to be waiting in the hallway while I’m in the bathroom,” she says, walking past him.

“I was checking to see if you’re okay,” Sam replies.

“Did Dean and Jo want some private time to talk and you had nothing to do?”

“Something like that,” Sam confesses as they enter the bar.

They see Ash walk out of the back room, carrying a laptop. “Where you guys been? I been waiting for you,” Ash says, sitting down at a table.

“We were working a job, Ash,” Sam explains, pulling out a chair for Addison. She sits down and gives him a thankful smile. He sits down next to her and notices Ash staring at him. “Clowns?”

“Clowns? What the—”

“You got something for us, Ash,” Dean asks, walking over to the table and sitting down on the other side of Addison.

“Did you find the demon,” Sam asks.

Ash puts his laptop on the table and opens it. “It’s nowhere around, at least nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises its head, I’ll know. I mean, I’m on it like Divine on dog dokie.”

“What do you mean,” Addison questions.

Ash smirks. “I mean any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm.” He turns the laptop to them and they see the different programs running on the screen. Dean’s hand hovers over the keyboard and Ash glares at him. “What’s up, man?”

“Ash, where did you lean to do all this,” Sam asks.

“M.I.T., before I got bounced…for fighting.”

“M.I.T.,” Addison amusingly asks.

“It’s a school in Boston.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Okay,” Dean says, standing. Sam and Addison follow suit. “Give us a call as soon as you know something?”

“Si, si, compadre,” Ash replies.

They start out of the bar. “Hey,” Ellen calls out and they stop. “Listen. If you three need a place to stay, I got a couple beds out back.”

Sam and Addison look at Dean. “Thank, but no. There’s something I gotta finish,” Dean replies.

“Okay,” Ellen says with a smile and they walk out of the Roadhouse.

* * *

Addison stares at the envelope in her hands. She sat in the passenger seat of the Mustang. The glove box was open, with the keys hanging out of the lock. She stares at her name written in familiar handwriting. The smashing of a window causes her to look up. Addison shoves the envelope in a black journal, then shoves it in the glove box before closing and locking it. She grabs the door and pulls herself up off the seat. A pounding is head throughout the junkyard. After closing and locking the door, Addison walks through the junkyard towards the sound.

She stops when she reaches the area where Dean was working on the Impala. He looks up and sees her standing there. Addison walks over to him. He lets her take the crowbar out of his hand and she drops it on the ground. She moves closer to him and drops her crutches to tightly embrace him. Dean pulls her against his chest. He leans down and presses his lips against hers. Her grip on him tightens as he picks up her and sets her on the newly replaced hood on the Impala. He unbuttons her shorts and tugs them, along with her panties, down her legs.

Addison pushes herself up as he quickly undoes his jeans and them, along with his boxer briefs, down. “Fuck, Ads,” Dean groans as he thrusts into her. She reaches down and rubs her clit. He grabs her wrists and holds them above her head. He drops his head onto her shoulder as he thrusts. A few thrusts later, he comes. He lets go of her wrists and she wraps her arms around him. Neither of them say anything as they lay there, then Dean’s pulling out.

He pulls up his boxer briefs and jeans as Addison slowly sits up. Dean grasps her thighs and pulls her towards the edge of the Impala’s hood. “Dean,” Addison moans when his tongue swipes over her clit. He pushes two fingers into her and it doesn’t take her long to climax. Dean reaches down and grabs her panties to clean her up, then shoves them in his back pocket. He helps her pull on her shorts and hands her the crutches. He presses a soft kiss to her lips and she stares at him with a raised eyebrow. Addison shakes her head and pushes herself off the hood.


	3. Bloodlust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

The newly rebuilt Impala speeds down the empty county back road. ‘Back in Black’ poured from the speakers. Dean laughs and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Sam sat in the passenger seat, slightly amused at his brother’s behavior. Addison was stretched out in the back seat, reading a book and trying to remain calm. “Woo!” Dean exclaims. “Listen to her purr. You ever heard anything so sweet?”

“You know, if you wanna get a room, just let me and Ads know, Dean.” Sam replies.

Dean pets the dashboard. “Oh, don’t listen to him, baby. He doesn’t understand us.” 

“You’re in a good mood.” Addison comments.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” 

“No reason.”

“I got my car, got a case -- things are looking up.” 

“Wow, Dean. Give you a couple of severed heads, a pile of dead cows, and you’re Mr. Sunshine. All bright and happy.”

Dean laughs. “How far to Red Lodge?” he asks Sam.

Sam grabs a map off the seat next to him. “Uh, about another three hundred miles,” he answers. 

“Good,” Dean says and presses down on the gas. Addison glares at him and readjusts her position in the back seat. “Cheer up, Addison.”

“Cheer my foot up your ass,” Addison mutters. Sam snorts and a confused look crosses Dean’s face for a minute. He shakes his head and turns his attention back to the road.

* * *

Addison closes her book when the brothers climb into the Impala. She had been out voted when it came to her going inside to talk to the local sheriff, which meant that she had been forced to stay inside the Impala. “So, what’d you learn,” she asks.

“That Dean needs to work on remembering the name of newspapers,” Sam answers.

“Shut up,” Dean counters, starting the Impala. “And we didn’t learn anything, which is why we’re going to the morgue." 

“I am not sitting in the damn car anymore,” Addison exclaims. “And neither of you are going to stop me. I mean it.” 

Dean smirks. “Well, it’s always easier to get in when you flash ‘em, Ads.” 

“Hey, I don’t flash anyone. Sometimes you just gonna give a glimpse of what those lonely pervs will never have...besides, you know what that’s like don’t you, Dean?”

“That’s it. You’re staying in the car, Addison.” 

“That’s what you think.”

* * *

The three of them walk down the hallway towards the morgue. They reach a desk where a young man was sitting. He wore white scrubs. Dean notices the name tag on his shirt. They had gotten strange looks from some of the hospital employees when they had seen Addison with her crutches, but they just ignored those looks. “John--” Dean starts.

“Jeff,” the man corrects.

Dean chuckles. “Jeff, I know that. Dr. Dorkin needs to see you in his office right away.” 

“But Dr. Dorkin’s on vacation.” 

“Well, he’s back. And he’s pissed and he’s screaming for you, man, so if I were you, I would--”

“Okay,” Jeff interrupts for a second time, standing up. They watch as he quickly walks down the hallway before entering the morgue.

“Hey, those Satanists in Florida -- they marked their victims, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, reverse pentacle on the forehead,” Sam answers, pushing a stool over to Addison. She shoots him a disbelieving look, but sits down anyway.

“So, much fucked up shit happens in Florida,” Dean comments. He tosses latex gloves over to them, then walks over to the body storage. He opens a compartment and pulls out the table. A body was laying on a table with a plastic bin where her head would be. He grabs the bin and puts it on the table. “All right. Open it.” 

“You open it.”

Addison rolls her eyes. She raises the stool high enough to where she could see. “I swear you two act more like a girl than I do,” she tells them and opens the bin. “No pentagram.”

“Wow. Poor girl.”

“Maybe we should, uh, look in her mouth, see if this wacko stuffed anything down her throat. You know, kind of like the moth in  _Silence of the Lambs_ ,” Dean comments. 

“Good idea, Dean,” Addison says, pushing the bin towards him. “You go ahead and do that.”

“No, you go ahead.” He smirks at her. “Put the lotion in the basket, Ads.”

Addison stares at him. “You’re disgusting, Dean.” He shrugs in response. She turns to Sam, who shakes his head at her. “You’re both pussies.” Reluctantly, Addison sticks her fingers in the girl’s mouth. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

Addison starts to remove her head, but Dean stops her. “Life up her lip again.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I think I saw something.” Dean lifts the girl’s lip. Her gums weren’t smooth, but seemed to be bumpy. He presses down and a tooth slides out. 

“It’s a tooth,” Sam states.

“Sam, that’s a fang. It’s a retractable set of vampire fangs. You gotta be kidding me.” 

“This changes things.”

“Ya think,” Addison asks. She pulls of the gloves and pushes away from the table. “Guess this means that I’m officially off this hunt.”

* * *

Addison follows Sam and Dean through the bar to the counter. She may not physically be taking part in the actual hunting, but she could still question people. And she refused to sit in the Impala alone. The bartender walks over to them. “How’s it going,” Dean asks.

“Living the dream. What can I get for you,” the bartender asks.

“Three beers, please.” 

“So, we’re looking for some people,” Sam says.

“Sure. It’s hard to be lonely,” the bartender replies.

“Yeah. But, um...that’s not what I meant.” Sam takes out a twenty dollar bill and places it on the counter. The bartender immediately takes it. “Great. So, these people would’ve moved here about six months ago. Probably pretty rowdy. Like to drink.”

“They’re the party all night, sleep in all day kind of folks,” Addison adds. 

“Barker Farm got leased out a couple months ago,” the bartender explains. “Real winners. They’ve been in here a lot. Drinkers, noisy. I had to eighty-six ‘em once or twice.” 

“Thanks,” Dean tells him and they walk out of the bar. They walk down an alley. Addison frowns when Sam pulls her into a smaller, darker alley and steps in front of her. After a few minutes, an African-American man walks past them. Sam and Dean step out behind the man, then they pin him against the wall. Dean holds a large knife to his neck. “Smile.”

“What,” the man laughingly asks. 

“Show us those pearly whites.” 

“Oh for the love of...” He rolls his eyes. “You wanna stick that thing someplace else? I’m not a vampire. Yeah, that’s right. I heard you guys in there.”

“What do you know about vampires,” Sam asks.

“How to kill ‘em. Now, seriously, bro. That knife’s making me itch.”

The man starts to move, but Sam pushes him back. “Hey!” 

“Whoa. Easy there, Chachi.” The man lifts up his life and his gums are normal. “See? Fangless. Happy?” They back away from him. Sam takes a protective stance in front of Addison. “Now, who the hell are you?” 

“Dean Winchester,” Dean introduces. He motions behind him. “My brother, Sam. And that’s Addison.”

“Gordon Walker.” He walks down the alley and they follow him. They arrive at an red-orange El Camino. “Sam and Dean Winchester,” Gordon repeats, unlocking his door. He pulls out his hidden arsenal. Addison raises an eyebrow at the various knives and guns. “I can’t believe it. You know, I met your old man once -- hell of a guy, great hunter. I heard he passed. I’m sorry. It’s big shoes, but, from what I hear, you guys fill ‘em -- great trackers, good in a tight spot.”

“You seem to know a lot about our family." 

“Well, word travels fast. You know how hunters talk.”

“No, we don’t, actually.”

“I guess there’s a lot your dad never told you, huh?” 

“So, those two vampires...that was you,” Addison asks, changing the subject before Dean can say something. 

“Yup. Been here two weeks.”

“Did you check out that Barker Farm,” Dean asks.

“It’s a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.”

“Where’s the nest then?”

Gordon smiles and shakes his head as he pushes the arsenal back into his hiding spot. “I got this one covered. Look, don’t get me wrong, it’s a real pleasure meeting you fellas. But I’ve been on this thing for over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I’ll finish it.” 

“We could help.” 

“Thanks, but I’m kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.” 

“Come on, man, I’ve been itching for a hunt.” 

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there’s a chupacabra two states over. Go ahead and knock yourselves out.” Gordon climbs into his car. He starts it and rolls down the window. “It was real good meeting you through. I’ll buy you a drink on the flip side.”

They watch as Gordon drives away. “We’re gonna follow him, aren’t we,” Addison asks. Dean doesn’t say anything. She looks up at Sam and they both watch as Dean walks to where the Impala was parked.

* * *

There were times in her life where Addison Bridget Sloan had no idea what was going on. One time was when she was six and watched her father patch up a bloody John Winchester. Another was when she was nineteen and was having dinner with her ex-fiancee’s family for the first time. And she could add one more to those moments that easily stood out in her mind. Addison had stayed in the Impala while Dean and Sam went to help Gordon deal with the vampire. When they came back, Sam had a concerned look on his face while Dean seemed creepily happy, since his face was covered in blood. 

Addison hadn’t asked what had happened. But it was obvious that the vampire had been dealt with. They were sitting in the bar and she sat in between Dean and Sam with Gordon across from her. A waitress comes over and sets four shots down. Dean starts to take out his wallet, when Gordon waves him off. “No, no. I got it.”

Dean takes out his wallet and opens it. “Come on.”

“I insist.” Gordon places money the waitress’ tray. “Thank you, sweetie.” He and Dean raise their shot glasses. “Another one bites the dust.” Addison reaches for one, but Sam sends her a disapproving look and she leans back.

“That’s right.”

“Dean,” Gordon laughs. “You gave that big ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you.”

“That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” 

“Yep.” Dean notices the upset look on Sam’s face. “You all right, Sammy?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sam coldly answers. 

“Well, lighten up a little, Sammy,” Gordon says. 

Sam nods towards Addison and Dean. “They’re the only ones that get to call me that.”

“Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little, job well done.” 

“Right. Well, um, decapitations aren’t my idea of a good time, I guess.” 

“Oh, come on, man. It’s not like it was human. You’ve gotta have a little more fun with your job.”

Dean snaps his fingers. “See, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell him. You could learn a thing or two from this guy.”

“Yeah, I bet I could,” Sam tells them, standing up. “Look, I’m not gonna bring you guys down. I’m just gonna go back to the motel.” 

Addison pushes her chair back and hobbles out of her chair. “I’ll head back with you.”

“You guys sure,” Dean asks, tiredly rubbing his face.

Addison glances at Sam. “Uh, yeah. I’m tired anyway.”

“Sammy.” Sam turns and Dean tosses him the keys to the Impala. “Remind me to beat that buzz kill outta you later, all right?”

Sam doesn’t say anything and walks out of the bar. Addison follows him and finds Sam waiting just outside the door. “I’m sorry, Ads, but I had to get out of there.”

Addison sighs as they walk over to the Impala. “Sam, we both know the real reason why Dean is acting like he is. All we can do is wait for him to deal with his grief on his own.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’m always right, Sam. Come on, let’s go back to the motel and do research on Gordon. Cause something’s bugging me about him.”

* * *

Sam sits down on the bed next to Addison, who was searching through her duffel bag for clean clothes. He bumps her arm and she looks at him. He presses the speaker button on his cell and the dial tone fills the room. “Harvelle’s Roadhouse,” Ellen greets. Voices of bar patrons could be heard in the background. 

“Hey, Ellen. Uh, Sam Winchester and Addison Sloan.” 

“Sam, Addison! It’s good to hear from you. You three are okay, aren’t you?”

“We’re fine,” Addison answers. “We have a question.”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker,” Sam asks. 

“Yeah, I know Gordon.”

“And?”

“Well, he’s a real good hunter. Why you asking, sweetie?”

“Well, we ran into him on a job and we’re kind of working with him, I guess.”

“Don’t do that.” 

Addison and Sam exchange a confused look. “But you just said that he was a good hunter,” Addison responds.

“Yeah, and Hannibal Lecter’s a good psychiatrist. Look, he is dangerous to everyone and everything around him. If he’s working a job, you three just let him handle it and you move on.”

“Ellen--” Sam begins.

“No, Sam. You just listen to what I’m telling you, okay?" 

“Okay,” Addison says. “Thanks for the info, Ellen.” 

“No problem. You three be careful,” Ellen replies, before hanging up.

Addison pushes herself off the bed and grabs her clothes. She doesn’t miss the upset look on Sam’s face. “We’ll explain it to Dean when he gets back, Sam. Everything will be okay.”

Sam nods. He stands up as she walks over to the bathroom. “Need any help?” 

Addison smiles at him. “I’ll be fine, Sam. And I promise to shout if I need help.”

* * *

The motel room is empty when Dean enters. He motions for Gordon to take a seat at the table as he grabs the map off the dresser. “Will someone please help me!” Gordon starts to stand up, but Dean waves him off and walks over to the bathroom. He walks in and finds Addison lying in the bathtub with the shower curtain covering her.

Dean smirks. “What do you need?”

Addison glares at him. “I fell and I can’t get up."

Dean chuckles and holds out a hand. Addison grabs his hand and keeps a tight grip on the shower curtain before she stands. Her foot slips and he wraps an arm around her waist as she grabs his shirt. She starts to take a step back, but he tightens his grip on her. She looks up and finds him staring at her. The look in his eyes was one that usually meant neither of them were getting a restful night’s sleep. His lips find hers and the kiss is filled with desire.

Addison groans when her back hits the counter and she pushes him away. “I need to get dressed.” Dean tightens his grip on her as his lips trail down. “Dean, I’m not in the mood.”

He stills for a moment, then walks out the bathroom and closes the door behind him. Dean sits down across from Gordon, who had the map spread out on the table. “Well, this is the best pattern I can establish,” he says, pointing out different areas on the map. “It’s sketchy, at best.” 

“Looks like it’s all coming from this side of town, which means the nest would be around here someplace, right?"

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. Problem is, there’s thirty-five, forty farms out there. I’ve searched about half of ‘em already, but nothing yet. They’re covering their tracks real good.” 

“I guess we’ll just have to search the other half.”

The bathroom door opens and Addison walks out, wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top. “Where’s Sam,” she asks, sitting down on the bed. 

“Car’s parked outside. Probably went for a walk -- seems like the take-a-walk type,” Gordon replies.

“He is, but Sam wouldn’t just leave when he knows that I’m gonna need his help,” Addison counters. The motel door opens and they turn to see Sam enter the room. She stands up, leaning on her crutches for support. “Sam--” 

“Can I talk to you two alone,” Sam asks, looking between Dean and Addison. She nods and walks out of the room. Sam follows her.

“You mind chilling out for a couple minutes,” Dean asks Gordon. Gordon shakes his head and Dean joins Sam and Addison outside.

“Dean, maybe we’ve gotta rethink this hunt.” 

“What are you talking about? Where were you?" 

“In the nest,” Sam answers after a moment. 

“You found it?” 

“They found me.” 

“Are you okay,” Addison immediately asks. 

Sam nods. “How’d you get out,” Dean asks. “How many did you kill?”

“None,” Sam replies.

“So, they just let you go,” Addison asks.

“That’s exactly what they did.”

“All right, well, where is it,” Dean asks.

“I was blindfolded, I don’t know.” 

“Well, you’ve gotta know something.” 

“We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen, maybe we shouldn’t go after ‘em.”

“What do you mean,” Addison asks. 

“I don’t think they’re like other vampires. I don’t think they’re killing people.”

“You’re joking,” Dean scoffs. Sam stares at him, sending him a look that begged him to listen. “Then how do they stay alive? Or undead or whatever the hell they are?”

“The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.” 

“And you believed ‘em?”

“Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch.” 

“Wait, so you’re saying...” Dean shakes his head. “No, man. No way. I don’t know why they let you go, I don’t really care. We find ‘em and we waste ‘em.”

“Why?”

“What part of vampires don’t you understand, Sam? If it’s supernatural, we kill it. End of story, that’s our job.”

“No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren’t killing people, they’re not evil.”

“Of course they’re killing people! That’s what they do. They’re all the same, Sam. They’re not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of ‘em.”

“No, Dean, I don’t think so, alright? Not this time.”

“Gordon’s been on those vamps for a year, man. He knows.” 

“Gordon,” Addison disbelievingly asks.

“Yes.”

“So, you’re taking his word over Sam’s?”

“That’s right.”

“Ellen says he’s bad news,” Sam tells him.

“You guys called Ellen?” They both nod. “And I’m supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. No thanks, I’ll go with Gordon.”

“Right, cause Gordon’s such an old friend. You don’t think we can see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“He’s a substitute for Dad, isn’t he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean coldly says, walking away. He could feel the anger creeping up his spine.

“He’s not even close, Dean. Not on his best day.”

Dean turns back to them. He had a forced smile on his face. “You know what, I’m not even gonna--”

“You know what, you slap on this big, fake smile, but I can see right through it, cause I know how you feel, Dean! Dad’s dead! And he left a hole and it hurts so bad you can’t take it, but you can’t just fill up that hole with whoever you want to! It’s an insult to his memory.” 

“Okay.” Dean starts to walk away, but turns around and punches Sam.

“Sam,” Addison exclaims, hobbling over to him. She places a comforting hand on his arm.

“You can hit me all you want,” Sam says after a moment. “It won’t change anything.”

“I’m going to that nest,” Dean tells him. “You don’t wanna tell me where it is? Fine. I’ll find it myself.” He walks back to the motel room.

“Dean.” Sam helps Addison back to the room. When they enter it’s empty.

“Gordon?” 

“Think he went after ‘em,” Addison asks, going over to her bag. Her hoodie was sitting on top and she grabs it. 

“Probably.”

“Dean, we have to stop him,” Sam says.

“Really, Sam? Cause I say we lend a hand.”

“Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. I’ll drive, give me the keys.” Sam motions to the small plastic cactus sitting on the table. But the keys weren’t there. “Son of bitch.” 

“Let’s just figure something out in the car,” Addison says, walking out of the room. Sam grabs the map and the three of them walk the Impala. 

Sam helps Addison into the backseat before climbing in the front while Dean hotwires the Impala. “I can’t believe this. I just fixed her up too,” he mutters. The Impala starts and he sits up. Sam was examining the map. “So, the bridge -- is that all you got?” 

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm.”

“How do you know?”

“I counted. We took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly uphill, then took another quick right and we hit the bridge.”

“You’re good. You’re a monster pain in the ass...but you’re good.”

* * *

The drive had been tense, with Sam giving directions every now and then. The nest was a small farm house. And Gordon’s car had been barely visible as they drove past it. Addison climbs out of the backseat, waving off Sam from helping her. As much as she appreciated it, she was still an independent woman who liked to do things on her own. Most of the belongings in the house were gone. They enter the kitchen to find a woman tied to a chair. Cuts were all over her pale face. Gordon stood next to her, holding a knife covered in blood. “Sam, Dean, Addison, come on in.” 

“Gordon, what’s going on,” Dean cautiously asks.

“Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man’s blood. She’s gonna tell us where all her little friends are, aren’t you? Wanna help?”

“Look, man--”

“Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers.” 

Lenore tiredly groans when Gordon cuts her arm. “Whoa, whoa, hey,” Dean says. “Let’s all just chill out, huh?” 

“I’m completely chill.”

Sam steps towards him. Dean holds his arm, stopping him from going closer. “Gordon, put the knife down.” 

“But it sounds like it’s Sammy who needs to chill.” 

“Just step away from her, all right?”

“You’re right,” Gordon says, putting his knife down. “I’m wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk.” He takes out another knife, this one bigger than his pervious one. “Might as well put her out of her misery. I just sharpened it, so it’s completely humane.” 

Sam walks over to Lenore. “Gordon, I’m letting her go.” 

Gordon points his knife at Sam. “You’re not doing a damn thing.”

“Gordon, how about we talk about this first,” Addison says, casting a worried glance at the knife. 

“What’s there to talk about? It’s like I said -- no shades of gray.” 

“Yeah, I hear you,” Dean responds. “And I know how you feel.” 

“Do you?” 

“The vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but--”

Gordon laughs. “Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn’t kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So, I hunted her down and I killed her myself.”

Addison stares at him in horror. “You did what?”

“It wasn’t my sister anymore. It wasn’t human. I didn’t blink...and neither would you, Dean.” 

“So, you knew all along then,” Sam states. “You know about the vampires, you knew they weren’t killing anyone. You knew about the cattle and you just didn’t care.”

“Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we’re supposed to buy that? Trust me. It doesn’t change what they are. And I can prove it.” 

Gordon grabs Sam’s arm and cuts him, then presses the knife to his throat. Dean pulls out his gun and aims it at Gordon. “Let him go. Now!” 

“Relax. If I wanted to kill him, he’d already be on the floor. Just making a point.”

Gordon turns Sam’s arm to where blood drops on Lenore’s face. Addison tenses when Lenore’s fangs come out. “Let him go,” she says.

“You think she’s so different? Still wanna save her? Look at her. They’re all the same -- evil, bloodthirsty.” 

Addison lets out relived breath when Lenore’s fangs disappear. “No,” Lenore moans, shaking her head. “No!” 

“You hear her, Gordon,” Sam asks. He pushes a shocked Gordon away. “We’re done here.” 

“Sam, get her out of here,” Dean orders as Sam unties Lenore from the chair.

“Yeah.” Sam picks up Lenore and he, along with Addison, walk out of the house. Outside, Addison sits down on the steps. He notices and turns to her. “Ads--”

“I’ll wait here,” Addison interrupts. She gives him a reassuring smile. “Go. I’ll be fine.” Sam continues to the Impala. She watches as he puts Lenore in the front, then climbs in and drives off. She sits there, even as sounds of a fight from inside the house reach her. After it’s silent for a while, Addison makes her way back inside. Furniture is broken or over turned. Gordon was tied to a chair and she ignores the glare he sends her. Dean was sitting on a couch. He doesn’t say anything as she sits down next to him. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from Gordon as Addison places a comforting hand on his arm. 

They’re in the same position when Sam walks back in a couple of hours later. Addison removes her hand and stands up. “Did I miss anything,” he asks, looking between her and Dean.

“Nah, not much,” Dean answers, standing up. “Lenore get out okay?”

“Yeah. All of ‘em did.”

Gordon’s glare intensifies. “Then I guess our work here is done. How you doing, Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet? Alright...well, get comfy. We’ll call someone in two or three days, have ‘em come out, untie you.” 

Addison rolls her eyes as Dean slams Gordon’s knife in a table no where near Gordon. “Ready, Dean,” she asks. 

“Not yet. I guess this is goodbye. It’s been real.” Dean punches Gordon and the chair that Gordon’s tied to falls over. Dean stares at him for a second, then joins Addison and Sam. “Okay. I’m good now. We can go.” Addison shakes her head as they walk out of the house. The sun was rising over the horizon and she smiles. “Sam?” 

“Yeah,” Sam replies. 

Dean stops and Sam looks at him. “Clock me one.” 

“What?” 

“Come on. I won’t even hit you back. Let’s go.” 

Sam stares at his older brother. “No.”

“Let’s go, you get a freebie! Hit me, come on.” 

“You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean. I’ll take a rain check.” 

Dean shrugs and they continue to the Impala. “I wish we never took this job, cause it jacked everything up.”

“What do you mean,” Addison asks, leaning against the door. 

“Think about all the hunts we went on our whole lives.” 

“Uh huh.”

“What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing? You know, I mean, the way Dad raised us...” 

“Dean, after what happened to Mom...” Sam pauses. “Dad did the best he could.” 

“I know he did. But the man wasn’t perfect. I mean the way he raised us to hate those things and man, I hate ‘em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn’t even think about it. Hell, I even enjoyed it.” 

“You didn’t kill Lenore.” 

“Yeah, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her, I was gonna kill ‘em all.” 

“Yeah, Dean, but you didn’t. And that’s what matters.”

“Yeah...because you’re both a pain in my ass.” 

Sam laughs as Addison rolls her eyes, but smile nonetheless. “Guess we might have to stick around and be a pain in the ass then.” 

“Thanks.”

Addison climbs in the backseat. “Don’t mention it,” Sam tells him, then climbs into the front seat. Dean stares at the house for moment. He knew that Sam had a point, but he couldn’t help the way he felt. He climbs into the passenger seat and they drive off.


	4. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

"Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid.” Dean complains and Addison rolls her eyes. It was one of the rare moments where she was sitting in the front seat for a change. Of course all she had to do was ask Sam to switch seats for day.

"Why," Sam replies, leaning forward on the seat.

"Going to visit Mom's grave? I mean, she doesn't even have a grave. There was no body left after fire."

"She has a headstone."

"Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man that we've never even met. So, you wanna go pay respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on."

"It's about paying respects to the woman who gave birth to you and your giant ego, Dean," Addison comments and Dean sends her a look. "Don't send me that look, you know it's true."

"Besides after Dad, it just - it just feels like the right thing to do," Sam continues, after a moment.

"It's irrational, that what it is," Dean responds.

"Look, man, no one asked you to come."

"Why don't we swing by the Roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down."

"That's a good idea. You two should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride and meet you guys there tomorrow."

Dean scoffs and shakes his head. "Right. Stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you show up? No, thanks."

* * *

Addison takes the crutches from Sam as she climbs out of the Impala. He keeps a hand on her back as they walk over to Mary Winchester's grave. Addison had been content to sit in the Impala, but he insisted on her joining him. "You're family," Sam says, breaking Addison out of her thoughts. "You may be a Sloan, but you're a Winchester too."

Addison smiles. "Then you're the only non-Irish-English member of my family, Sam," she amusedly tells him. "And that's for everyday of the year, not just my birthday."

"Well on your birthday, I'm Irish."

"Everyone's Irish on my birthday, Sam."

They reach the headstone and silence settles around them. Sam kneels down takes out his pocket knife and a set of dog tags. He digs small hole and buries the dog tags. "I think, uh, I think Dad would've wanted you to have these. I love you, Mom." Addison places a comforting hand on his shoulder. Sam stands up and after a moment, they walk back to the Impala.

"Angela Mason," Dean says, walking back over to them. He holds up a small piece of paper. Sam glances at Addison and she shrugs in response. "She was a student at the local college. Her funeral was three days ago."

"And," Sam asks.

"'And?' Look at her grave." Dean motions to the right side of the cemetery. Addison walks towards it, with the brothers behind her. A dead tree was near a newer grave. "Everything dead around it in a perfect circle. You don't think that's a little weird?"

Addison shrugs. "It is a little weird."

Dean triumphal grins. Sam shakes his head in disagreement. "Maybe the groundskeeper went a little aggro with the pesticide."

"No, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it," Dean counters.

"Okay, so, what are you thinking?"

"I don't know. Unholy ground, maybe?"

Addison turns back to face them. "Why would you say unholy ground?"

"If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the farm outside Cedar Rapids," Dean asks, as they head back towards the Impala. "Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or that Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough. Well, don't get too excited, one of you might pull something."

"It's just…stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places," Sam comments, opening the front door. He motions for Addison to sit down and she climbs into the Impala.

"So?"

"So, are you sure this about a hunt, not about something else?"

"What else would it be about?"

Sam sighs. "You know, just forget it."

Dean looks at Addison and she looks away. She couldn't help that she agreed with Sam. "You two can believe what you want. But I let you drag my ass out here, the least we can do is check this out."

"Yeah. Fine."

"The girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school," Dean tells them starting the impala.

* * *

Addison looks around the waiting area of the local college's archaeology department. Various brightly colored fliers were hanging around the area. One advertised a summer dig in Fiji. "Dr. Mason," Dean says when the door to an office opens to reveal an older man.

"Yes," Dr. Mason answers.

"I'm Sam. This is Dean and Addison. We were friends of Angela's. We wanted to offer our condolences," Sam tells him.

"Please, come in," Dr. Mason says, opening the door and allowing them to enter the office. Addison takes a seat on a push armchair as Dr. Mason and Sam sits on the couch, while Dean looks around the office. A bookshelf was behind her, while a large desk sat in front of a window. The office easily reminded Addison of the time she spent in college. Dr. Mason picks up a photo album and starts showing them pictures of his daughter.

"She was beautiful," Sam tells him.

"Yes, she was."

"This is an unusual book," Dean comments holding up a book.

She turns in her seat to look at the book. "Ancient Greek, right," Addison asks, turning back to Dr. Mason.

"You know Ancient Greek," Dr. Mason asks.

"Not really," Addison lies.

"So, a car accident," Dean says, changing the subject. "That's horrible."

"Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh..." Dr. Mason says and Addison gives him a sad look.

"That's gotta be hard - losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence. You ever feel anything like that?"

"I do, as a matter of fact."

Dean shoots Sam a smug look. "But it's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason," Addison says and he nods.

"You know, I still phone her. The phone was ringing before I remember that, uh...Family is everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now, I'm just lost without her," Dr. Mason states and starts to cry.

"We're very sorry," Sam tells him. "Thank you for your time." Dr. Mason pays no attention as they quietly exit the office. Sam starts to ask something, but Addison shakes her head. The last thing she wanted to talk about was herself.

* * *

"I'm telling you two, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it," Dean says, sitting down next to Addison on the motel bed.

Addison sighs and closes her laptop before setting it on the nightstand. "All you really have is a patch of dead grass," Addison comments and Dean stares at her.

"Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground."

"There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father," Sam counters.

"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?"

"You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore."

"So what, Sam? We just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?"

"I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is about Mom's grave," Sam honestly answers. Dean glances at Addison but for the second time that day she avoids his look.

"That's got nothing to do with it," Dean angrily answers.

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look, maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom or Dad." An angry looks crosses Dean's face. "You wanna take another swing? Go ahead. It'll make you feel better."

Dean starts walking towards the door. "Dean-" Addison says, standing up from the bed and he looks at her.

"I'm gonna go get a drink. Alone," he coldly replies and walks out of the room.

The room's silent. Addison grabs her crutches and pulls herself off the bed. She hobbles over to her duffel bag. "Why you'd lie about knowing Ancient Greek," Sam asks.

"What makes you think I lied," Addison responds, turning around.

Sam was standing right behind her. She looks at him, waiting for him to answer. "Because I know you, Ads."

Addison turns away from him and resumes searching through her bag. "I don't know about you but I'm starving. How about you go get us something to eat while I take a shower?" Sam sighs and move away from her. He grabs his jacket off of his bed and walks out of the room. She lets out a deep breath and closes her eyes.

_"You should take Ancient Greek," Wes says, taking the course registration form out of Addison's hands. They were sitting on her bed in her dorm room. She closes her textbook and sits up. "Professor Andrews is supposed to a fun teacher."_

_"Why should I take Ancient Greek next year," Addison asks._

_"Because I'm taking it."_

_"And..."_

_Wes softly kisses her. "Because I want to take a class with my girlfriend. It'll be fun. And it counts as a language credit."_

_"Then in the spring you have to take a class that I pick."_

_"Deal."_

_Addison smiles and kisses him. "I'm gonna hold you to that."_

_Wes pulls her into another kiss. Books fall to the floor. She lays back, pulling him on top of her. He pulls back and looks down at her. Her hair was spread out on the bed. "I love you."_

_"I love you too."_

Sam sighs as he stares at the TV. He could hear the blow dryer in the bathroom. His mind was nowhere near what was on screen. It was on the person using the blow dryer. Despite what Addison believed, she and Dean were alike in one way. Whenever they thought someone was getting too close emotionally, they always pulled back. Dean would ignore it and find something else to focus on. Addison would ignore it until she was comfortable with dealing with it.

The blow dryer turns off and Addison walks out of the bathroom. She looks between Sam and TV. "Are you watching porn?" Sam looks at the TV and realizes what is actually on the screen. Addison snorts in amusement and sits down next to him. "I don't know why people watch this crap. It's so cheesy."

"Are you ready to talk?” Sam asks. Addison takes a deep breath. She opens her mouth. The door starts to open and Sam grabs the remote to turn off the TV. They watch as Dean walks into the room. He stares at them and they stare back. "Hey."

"Awkward," Dean states, walking over to the table.

"Where the hell were you," Addison demands.

Dean glances at the advertisement on top of the TV. "I was working my imaginary case."

"Yeah. And," Sam asks, standing up.

"Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night - slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Let's see, what else? Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings," Dean replies and Addison isn't sure if the last part is directed at her or Sam.

"Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here," Sam relents.

"Maybe? I know how to do my job, despite what the two of you might think."

"Well...let's go check out the dead boyfriend's apartment then. And we know that you can do the job Dean," Addison comments.

"I just came from there. Found a pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish, too."

"So, unholy ground," Sam asks him.

"Maybe. But I'm still not getting that powerful, 'angry spirit' vibe from Angela. I have been reading this though." Dean pulls out a pink book that was tucked into his jacket.

"Dean! That's an invasion of privacy. It's where a girl can put her innermost private thoughts and not have someone steal it to read," Addison tells him and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Well, the girl's a little too nice."

"And what do you want to do?"

"Keep digging. Talk to more of her friends."

"You get any names," Sam asks him.

"You kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide word," Dean sarcastically answers and tosses the diary to Addison, who glares at him.

* * *

"I didn't realize the college employed grief counselors," Neil, Angela's best friend, tells them as they stand on his front porch. Addison shoots him a sad smile. The house was small and in a vibrant neighborhood near the campus.

"Oh, yeah. You talk, we listen. Maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever helps jump start the healing," Dean replies.

"Well, I think I'm okay. Thanks."

"Well, you heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right," Sam asks him.

"Yeah, I did."

"Grief can make people do things that they normally wouldn't do and we wanted to make sure that you were okay," Addison tells him.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself, it wasn't cause of grief."

"No? Then what," Dean asks.

"It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew."

"How was Matt responsible," Sam asks him.

"She really loved that guy. But the night of the accident, she walked in on him with another girl. She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Look, I've gotta get ready for work. So, thanks for the concern, but seriously, I'll be okay," Neil replies and walks back into his house.

They walk down the steps and start heading in the direction that Dean parked the Impala, "You know, if I was in Angela's position, I'd probably do the same thing," Addison comments and they look at her. "What? You're a ghost and pissed, it's not like you have to worry about going to prison."

"So, if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over," Sam asks, as they reach the Impala.

"Well, there's one way to be sure," Dean replies and they get inside.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Burn the bones."

"Burn the bones? Are you high? Angela died last week."

"So?"

"There isn't gonna be any bones, Dean. Just a rotting body, with maggots and nasty crap in that coffin," Addison tells him and Sam nods in agreement.

"Since when are you two afraid to get dirty, huh," Dean asks, turning the ignition.

* * *

That night, Addison's holding the flashlight as Dean and Sam dig up the grave. Sam reaches down and pulls open the coffin, only to find it empty. "They buried the body four days ago," Dean comments and Addison holds in the comment that was fighting it's way out.

"I don't get it. Can I get the light," Sam replies and Addison hands him the flashlight. Sam shines it on something inside that coffin lid. "Look."

"Ah, crap," Addison mutters. They look at her, waiting for an explanation. "Alright. So, I lied. I took Ancient Greek and made an A in the class."

"Congratulations," Dean sarcastically says. "What the hell does it mean?"

"Those symbols appear to be for some kind of ritual. Something that involves the dead or the undead."

"You sure about that?"

"Um, not really. The college should have a book, it should only take a few minutes to translate."

* * *

"Dean, maybe you should rethink this," Addison tells him as the three of them walk up to Dr. Mason's home, but he ignores her, knocking on the door. After she translated the symbols, they had made a beeline for Dr. Mason's office, only to find that he wasn't there.

"You're Angie's friends, right," Dr. Mason greets.

"Dr. Mason-" Sam starts before Dean interrupts him.

"We need to talk," Dean coldly says.

"Well, then, come in."

"Thank you," Addison replies as they walk into the house.

"You teach Ancient Greek? Tell me. What are these." Dean pulls a piece of paper with the symbols that were in the coffin.

"I don't understand. You said this had something to do with Angie."

"It does. Please, just humor me."

"They're part of an Ancient Greek divination ritual."

"Used for necromancy, right?"

"That's right."

"See, before we came over here, we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves. Apparently, they use rituals likes this when communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life - full on zombie action."

"Yeah. I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?"

"I think you know," Dean angrily replies, grabbing the paper back from him.

"Dean," Sam says. He lightly elbow's Addison and motions around the room. She notices the living plants around the room.

"Look, I get it, okay? There are people who I would give anything to see again. But what gives you the right," Dean continues.

"Dean," Addison tries grabbing his attention.

"What are you talking about," Dr. Mason asks them.

"What's dead should stay dead," Dean angrily answers.

"What?"

"Stop it," Sam tells him.

"What you brought back isn't even your daughter anymore. These things are vicious, they're violent, they're so nasty they rot the ground around them. I mean, come on, haven't you seen  _Pet Sematary_?"

"You're insane," Dr. Mason replies and Addison can't help thinking the same thing.

"Where is she?"

"Get out of my house," Dr. Mason demands and picks up the phone.

"I know you're hiding her somewhere. Where is she?"

"Dean, stop, that's enough. Dean, look," Sam tells him and motions the flowers around the room. "Beautiful, living plants. We're leaving."

"I'm calling the police."

"We are so sorry, sir. We'll never bother you again," Addison tells Dr. Mason and the three quickly exit his house. "What the hell was that, Dean?"

"Back off," Dean angrily replies and Addison sends Sam an exasperated look.

"You scared that poor man half to death, Dean. He didn't deserve the way you treated him."

"Okay, so, she's not here. Maybe he's keeping her somewhere else."

"Stop it," Sam shouts, before Addison has a chance to reply. "That's enough, okay? Enough!"

"Sam, I know what I'm doing," Dean tells him.

"No, you don't! At all." Dean bitterly chuckles. Addison glares at him, digging her nails into her crutch. "Dean, I don't scare easy, but man, you're scaring the crap outta me."

"You're being overdramatic, Sam."

"You're lucky this turned out to be a real case, cause if it wasn't, you would've just found something else to kill!"

"What?"

"You're on edge, you're erratic. Except for when you're hunting, cause then you're downright scary. You're tail spinning, man. And you refuse to talk about and you won't let me or Addison help you!"

"I can take care of myself, thanks."

"No, you can't! And you know what? You're the only who thinks you should have to. You don't have to handle this on your own, Dean, no one can."

"Sam, if you bring up Dad's death one more time, I swear."

"Stop, please, Dean - it's killing you. Please. We already lost dad. We've lost mom. Addison's already lost both her parents and I've lost Jessica. And now we're gonna lose you, too?"

Dean lets out a sigh. "We better get out of here before the cops come." They stare at him. He knew they had a point. "I hear you, okay? Yeah, I'm being an ass, and I'm sorry. But right now we've got a fucking zombie running around and we need to figure out how to kill it. Right?"

"Our lives are weird," Sam comments and Addison laughs. 

"But it's so much more fun to be weird than normal," Addison replies and they walk towards where Dean had parked the Impala.

* * *

"We can't just waste her with a head shot," Dean asks, later when they're sitting in the motel room doing research on zombies. He was sitting on the bed while Sam and Addison sat at the table, with laptops in front of them and John's journal.

"If we do that, then we might as well get pool sticks and whack her with them in sync to a Queen song. Then somebody yells, kill the queen," Addison comments and Dean sends her questioning look. " _Shaun of Dead_. Zombie comedy."

"You two watch to many movies," Sam replies and Addison shakes her head.

"So, there's no lore on how to smoke 'em," Dean asks Sam.

"No, there's too much. I mean, there's a hundred different legends on the walking dead, but they all have different methods for killing them. Some say setting them on fire, one said...where is it," Sam answers and turns the page in the journal. "Right here, feeding their hearts to wild dogs. That's my personal favorite. Who knows what's real and what's myth."

"Is there anything they all have in common?"

"A few said silver could work," Addison answers.

"Silver's a start."

"Now, we just gotta find Angela."

"We gotta figure out the person who brought her back."

"Any ideas," Sam asks.

"I think if it's not her dad, it might be that guy, Neil."

"Neil," Addison replies and Dean nods. "What gives you that idea?"

He holds up the bright pink diary. "You've got your journal, I've got mine. 'Neil's a real shoulder to cry on. He so understands what I'm going through with Matt.' And there's more in here where that came from. It's got unrequited Duckie love written all over it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he brought her back from the dead," Sam counters.

"Hmm, did I mention that he's Professor Mason's T.A.? Has access to all the same books."

* * *

Dean knocks on Neil's door as Sam picks the door. When no one answers, they quietly enter the house. Addison winces as her crutch makes a noise on the wood flooring. "Hello? Neil! It's your grief counselors, we've come to hug!"

At no response, Dean pulls out his gun and Addison and Sam both notice. "Silver bullets," Sam asks him.

"Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse," Dean replies and they look around Neil's house. Addison sees the dead plants all over the house and quickly makes her way to where Sam and Dean are standing by a door. "Could be where he keeps his porn." Addison snorts and Sam turns his glare on her, moving to unlock the door. The walk down the stairs and find the room empty, a bed sitting in the middle. "Sure looks like a zombie pen to me."

"A very empty one. Maybe Angela went after someone," Addison replies as Dean opens one of the windows.

"No, I think she went out to rent Beaches."

"Look, smart ass, she might kill someone. We've gotta find her, Dean," Sam comments.

"Yeah. All right, she clipped Matt because he was cheating, right," Dean responds.

"Yeah..." Sam trails off.

Addison shakes her head in disbelief. "Well, it takes two to tango."

"And it just seemed that Angela's roommate was...broken up over Matt's death. I mean, like, really broken up," Dean tells them.

* * *

They enter the house that Angela had been living in and see her standing over another girl holding a pair of bloody scissors. Dean and Sam pull out their guns and shoot Angela, who runs out the window with Dean quickly following her. Sam helps up the girl. "I've got you, I've got you."

"Damn, that dead chick can run," Dean tells them a few minutes later, climbing back through the window.

"So, what do we do now," Addison asks him.

"I say we go have a little chat with Neil."

"So, the silver bullets - they did something, right," Sam asks, as they climb back into the Impala. They had left Angela's roommate, Lindsey, in hysterics in the house. Addison had felt bad for Lindsey, but only for a moment.

"Yeah, something, but not enough. What else you got," Dean replies.

"Well, John's journal said something about nailing the undead in their grave bed," Addison answers, leaning on the seat.

"Their grave bed? You serious," Dean asks her and Addison just raises an eyebrow. "How the hell are we gonna get Angela back to the cemetery?"

* * *

They enter Neil's office at the university to find him sitting at a desk There were more dead plants around the dark office. "What are you guys doing here," Neil asks, standing up.

"You know, I've heard of some people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you? You take the cake," Dean tells him.

"Okay, who are you guys?"

"You might wanna ask Angela that question."

"What?"

"We know about the ritual you did," Addison informs him and Neil shakes his head.

"You're crazy."

"Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy? When someone's gone, they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff," Dean coldly says.

"Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey," Sam continues.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Neil tells them and Dean grabs him by his shirt collar. "Hey!"

"No more crap, Neil! This blood is on your hands," Dean angrily tells him. "Now, the three of us can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!"

"My house. She's at my house," Neil tells them.

Dean finally sees the dead plants and looks back at Neil. "You sure about that?" Neil nods and Dean notices the closet door closed. "Listen, it doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her and we've gotta perform another ritual over her grave to reverse the one that you did. We're gonna need some black roots, some scar weed, some candles. It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple of hours. I think you should come with us. I'm serious. Leave with us, right now."

"No. No," Neil replies and Dean leans into close, telling him something. Dean stands back up and the three of them walk out of the office.

* * *

Addison lights another candle and places it around Angela's grave. They had gone back to the cemetery after picking up a couple of items. "You really think this gonna work," Sam asks, setting another candle down.

"No, not really. But it was the only thing I could come up with," Dean replies and Addison sends him a look. "We came up with."

"Thank you," Addison replies, rolling her eyes.

A rustle comes from the bushes and Sam walks towards it. Addison lights the last candle and walks over to her hiding spot. They hear a shot and Dean raises his gun. Sam runs into the clearing and trips, giving Angela a chance to catch up to him. Addison watches as Dean shoots Angela, until she falls into the grave. Dean slides in after Angela and he stabs her with the silver stake. Her body goes limp. Addison walks out from her hiding spot. Sam stands up and joins her as Dean climbs out of the grave.

Addison awkwardly stands there was they rebury Angela. The sun had risen as they cleaned up the fake ritual. "Rest in peace," Sam says, patting the grave.

"Yeah, for good this time, okay," Dean says.

They shoulder the shovels and start walking back to the Impala. "Why did we have to use me as bait?"

"I figured you were more her type. She had pretty crappy taste in guys."

"I think she broke my hand."

Addison pats Sam's back as they reach the Impala. "We'll stop at the hospital after we leave town." She climbs into the backseat.

Sam notices Dean staring at their mother's grave as he joins him at the trunk. "You wanna stay for a while?" Dean doesn't say anything. He just puts their supplies in the trunk and slams it closed. Sam lets out a sad sigh. Addison had been ready to talk, which thrilled him, but now he just wanted his brother to talk to him.

* * *

 

When the Impala comes to a stop the next afternoon, Addison sits up and tiredly watches as Dean gets out. She sends Sam a look and they go after him. "Dean, is everything okay," Addison gently asks him.

"I'm sorry," Dean answers and Addison takes a seat next to him on the hood of the Impala.

"For what," Sam asks, taking a seat on the other side of Dean.

"The way I've been acting...and for Dad. I mean, he was your dad, too. It's my fault he's gone."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you've been thinking it, so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I had a full recovery. And it was a miracle. Then, five minutes later, Dad's dead and the Colt's gone."

"Dean-" Addison starts before he interrupts her.

"Neither of you can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."

"We don't know that. Not for sure," Sam counters.

"Sam, Ads...you two and Dad - you're the most important people in my life. And now...I never should have come back. It wasn't natural. And now, look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it. So tell me...what could either of you possibly say to make that all right," Dean replies and a silence falls over the three of them. 


	5. Simon Said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

"I don't know, man. Why don't we just chill out and think about this," Dean asks, as they drive down the dark highway. He had found his younger brother in a gas station bathroom with an upset look on his face and once back in the Impala, Sam had proceed to tell them about the vision he had.

"What's there to think about," Sam counters, rubbing his forehead.

Addison places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You know as much as it kills me to say this, Dean's right, Sam. Is going to the Roadhouse the brightest idea," Addison asks him.

"It's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen and Ash can tell us where."

"Yeah, man, but-" Dean starts before Sam interrupts him.

"Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do."

"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?"

Sam stares at his brother. "So, I'm a freak now?"

"You've always been a freak," Dean tells him and slaps Sam's knee. "And what do you mean that it kills you to say that I'm right, Addison? I'm always right."

She rolls her eyes. "Only when it comes to certain things. Otherwise you're wrong all the time," Addison tells him and Sam laughs at the look on his older brother's face.

* * *

They walk into the Roadhouse, filled with hunters and non-hunters. Loud music was playing from a jukebox in the corner. People eyed her crutches, but Addison paid no attention to them as she followed Sam and Dean over to where Jo was standing near an arcade game. "Just can't stay away, huh," Jo greets them.

Dean chuckles, his gaze roaming over her. "Yeah, looks like it. How you doing, Jo?"

"Where's Ash," Sam asks before Jo can answer.

"In his back room."

"Great." Addison rolls her eyes as Sam quickly walks away and hobbles after him.

"And I'm fine," Jo calls after them.

They reach a door with a sign that read 'Dr. Badass Is In' hanging on it. "That was a rude," Addison quietly remarks as Sam knocks on the door. She sighs and knocks on the door. "Dr. Badass, I was wondering if I could have a word with you?"

The door opens and reveals Ash standing there, naked. "Addison...with Sam and Dean," Ash greets and Addison glances behind her to find that Dean had silently joined them. She turns back to Ash, deciding to stare at a spot to the right of his head.

"Hey, Ash. Um, we need your help," Sam tells him.

"Hell, then...I guess I need my pants," Ash reasons and looks at Addison. "You wanna help me find them?" Addison stares at him for a second, then turns and walks back to the bar. "That's cool. I like 'em hard to get!" Sam shakes his head and follows Addison. Dean chuckles, walking back to the bar.

Ten minutes later, Ash (fully clothed, something Addison was grateful for) was sitting with them at a table towards the back of the bar. Sam had drawn out a symbol he had seen in his vision and they silently waited while Ash looked it up. "So, I got a match. Let's see...it's the logo for the Blue Ridge bus lines — Guthrie, Oklahoma."

"Okay, do me a favor. Check Guthrie for any demonic signs or omens or anything like that," Sam tells him.

"You think the demon's there?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Why would you think that?"

"Just check it, all right," Dean demands, exchanging a look with Sam. One that was clearly warning him.

Ash nods, turning back to his computer. "No, sir. Nothing, no demon."

"All right, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, the fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, the night of the kid's six-month birthday," Sam asks and Ash stares at him.

"Okay, now that is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be lookin' for that?"

"Cause there's a PBR in it for ya," Sam replies, placing a bottle of beer in front of Ash.

"Give me fifteen minutes," Ash tells him and turns to Addison. "Wanna help?"

Addison stares at him with disbelief on her face. She had no problems with Ash, but she was annoyed and tired. "Ash, I will never, ever sleep with you," she replies. "So, stop hitting on me or else."

* * *

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night. And I'm getting closer than I ever through I might-" Dean sings and Addison lets out an annoyed sigh.

"Dean, seriously," Addison interrupts and he looks at her in the rearview mirror. She was stretched out in the back seat with her leg propped up on a couple of stolen motel pillows.

"I heard the song somewhere, I can't get it out of my head," Dean explains. She rolls eyes, settling back against the door. "Sammy, what do you got?"

"Andrew Gallagher - born in '83, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me," Sam answers, ignoring the awkwardness that had settled over the Impala.

"You think the demon killed his mom?"

"Sure looks like it."

"How'd you even know to look for this guy?"

"Every premonition I've had — if they're not about the demon, they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?"

"Max Miller was a few fries short of a happy meal," Addison reminds him with Dean nodding in agreement.

"The point is, he was killing people and I was having the same type of visions about him. Now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy," Sam counters.

"Where do we find him then?"

"I don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills - phone, credit, utilities."

"Collection agency flags," Dean asks.

"Not in the system."

"There's no way they just let him not pay his bills," Addison comments and Sam shrugs.

"Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2, about a year ago. Let's start there," Sam tells him. Addison sighs and tries to get comfortable. She catches Dean's gaze in the rearview mirror and sees the concern. She gives him a reassuring smile, even through she was just as concern about Sam.

* * *

They're sitting in the diner with Tracy, Andy's latest boss. She was around Sam's age with short blonde hair. And she had a bubbly personality as she poured three cups of coffee. "You won't get anything out of Andy. I'm sorry, but they never do."

"They," Sam asks.

"You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while, they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back."

"Actually, we're lawyers, representing his great aunt Lita. She passed, God rest her soul, but left Andy a sizable estate," Dean lies.

"Yeah. So, are you a friend of his," Sam asks Tracy.

"I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore," Tracy answers as another worker walks over to the table and takes a seat, causing Addison to raise an eyebrow.

"Andy? Andy kicks ass," the worker tells them. He had short dark brown hair and had a white apron tied around his waist.

"Oh really," Addison disbelievingly asks.

"Yeah! Andy can get you into anything. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful."

"Uh huh. How about busing a table or two, Webber," Tracy asks him.

"Yeah, you bet, boss," Webber says, standing up.

Tracy watches as he walks away, looks at him then turns to them. "Look, if you wanna find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a Barbarian queen painted on the side."

"A Barbarian queen," Dean disbelievingly asks Tracy and she nods. 

"She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss."

* * *

"I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet," Dean comments as they sit in the Impala across the street from Andy's van and Addison rolls her eyes. It was a dark blue van with a Barbarian queen riding a polar bear painted on the side.

"And you're the only person who thinks that, Dean," Addison replies. She notices the unhappy look on Sam's face. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Sam replies.

Addison sends Dean a look, then places a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, you look like you're trying to figure out all the problems in world. So spill."

"This Andrew Gallagher - he's the second guy like this we've found. The demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people."

"But this guy could be innocent."

"My visions haven't been wrong yet."

"There's a first time for everything."

"It doesn't matter. I'm one of them."

"No, you're not," Dean sternly tells him.

"Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks! Maybe we're all supposed to be—"

"What, killers?"

"Yeah."

"You are not a murderer, Sam. No matter what the demon wants or what it says," Addison tells him and Sam looks at her.

"Really, Addison? Last I checked, I kill all kind of things."

"Well, those things were askin' for it. There's a difference," Dean comments. He turns back to look out the window as a man wearing pajamas and a bathroom walks out of an apartment building.

"Got him." They watch as Andy turns and waves at a blonde woman, who was leaning out a window, before continuing down the sidewalk. He talks to a man and the man hands Andy his coffee. Andy then talks to an older African-American man wearing a suit and they shake hands. "That's him. That older guy, that's him. That's the shooter."

"Well, you keep on him, we'll stick with Andy. Go."

Sam climbs out of the Impala and Addison does the same. Dean watches as she touches Sam's arm. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't notice Sam and Addison growing closer. Dean just didn't know how he felt about it. Sam opens the door and Addison climbs into the front seat. Noticing Andy drive off, Dean starts the Impala and follows him. Addison hits his arm and when he glances at her, she smiles in response.

They follow Andy until he pulls into a back alley. Dean grabs his gun and hides it in his jacket as Andy gets out of his van. Addison tenses when Andy walks over to them. "Hey," Andy greets, leaning in the window and Addison hesitantly smiles.

"Hey," Dean replies.

"This is a cheery ride."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Man, you know, '67 — Impala's best year, if you ask me. This is a serious classic."

"Yeah, I just rebuilt her, too. Can't let a car like this one go."

"Damn straight. Hey, can I have it?"

"Sure, man," Dean cheerfully answers, climbing out of the Impala.

Addison stares at him. "Dean, what are you doing," she exclaims. Andy turns to her and she scoffs, grabbing her crutches out of the backseat. "Please." With some difficulty, Addison climbs out of the Impala. The second she slams the door shut, Andy drives off. She hobbles over to Dean and slaps his arm. "What the hell?!"

"I don't know!"

Dean takes off down the street and she struggles to keep up with him. "Where are we going?" 

"To find my car!" Dean's phone suddenly rings and he answers, giving Addison a chance to catch up. "I know! He just sort of asked me for it and then I let him take it. He full on Obi Wan'd me! It's mind control, man! Sam?"

* * *

Addison sighs as they finally find the Impala parked in an alley. She had tried comforting Sam, but nothing seemed to work. "Thank God," Dean says, walking over to the Impala. He runs his hands over the hood. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again." He looks inside and finds the keys in the ignition. "At least he left the keys in it."

"Yeah, Dean, cause that's the most important thing," Addison sarcastically says. "He's a real samaritan."

"Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitchin' his nose. He's gotta use verbal commands," Dean says, ignoring Addison.

"The doctor had just gotten off his cell phone when he stepped in front of that bus. Andy must have called him or something," Sam comments.

"I don't know, maybe."

"Beg your pardon."

"I just don't know if he's our guy, Sam."

"Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his write Bronco and you have doubts about this?"

"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all. And O.J. was guilty!"

"Either way, how are we gonna track this guy down?"

"It shouldn't be that hard to find him, Sam," Addison says, leaning against the Impala.

It only takes them twenty minutes to find Andy's van, which was parked behind a convenient store, which was the exact place the had last seen him. "Not exactly an inconspicuous ride. Let's have a look," Dean comments, pulling a crowbar from his jacket. He jimmies the door and it pops open. Addison raises an eyebrow at the disco ball, the different blankets, and the posters covering the inside of the van. "Oh, come on. This is…this is magnificent, that's what this. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no little clown paintings on the walls or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger."

"Hegel? Kant? Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading," Sam counters, picking up the books.

"Yeah, and, uh, Moby Dick's bong," Dean says, picking up the large bong.

Addison leans on one crutch and uses the other to sift through the blankets. "What are you doing," Sam asks. She laughs and hobbles closer. She reaches in and picks up a small, empty plastic bag. "Addison!"

"What," Addison asks, tossing the bag back in the van. "It's not like he has any anyway." Dean watches as Sam and Addison stare at each other. Sam is the one who turns away first, leading her to smirk in amusement.

* * *

When the gas station burger wrapper hits her head, Addison glares at Dean, who misses it. She picks it up and tosses it back at him. "You know, one day, I'd love to just sit down and eat something that I didn't have to microwave in a mini-mart," Dean says, throwing the wrapper back at her.

"And one day I would like it if you didn't throw your garbage at me," Addison retorts.

"What I don't get his motive," Sam comments, not looking up from a file he was looking through. "I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean. Why would Andy waste him?"

"If it is Andy," Dean tells him.

"Dude, enough. The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math."

"I just don't think the guy's got it in him, that's all."

"Well, how the hell would you know? I mean, why are you bending over backwards, defending him?"

"Cause you're not right about this."

"About Andy?"

"Guys, shut up," Addison tells them. She had spotted Andy walking towards them.

"Hey," Andy says, slapping his hands down on the driver's side door. "You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?"

The three of them exchange a look. "Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed away-" Sam starts.

"Tell the truth!"

"That's what I'm-"

"We hunt demons," Dean blurts out and Addison looks at him, biting her lip to keep from saying anything.

"What," Andy disbelievingly asks.

"We kill things that regular people only seen in horror movies," Addison blurts out.

"Demons, spirits — things your worst nightmare wouldn't even touch," Dean continues. "Sam here, he's my brother. And Addison's my best friend with benefits."

"Dean, shut up," Sam tells him.

"I'm trying to. He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer and he's afraid that he's gonna become one himself, cause you're all part of something that's terrible and I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right."

"Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone," Andy tells them.

"Okay," Dean brightly replies and when Andy walks away he puts his head in his hands.

Sam gets out of the Impala and follows Andy. Addison climbs out. She wasn't gonna let Sam do this on his own. "What are you doing? Look, I said leave me alone! Get out of here! Just start driving and never stop!" Addison turns to walk back to the Impala.

"Doesn't seem to work on me, Andy," Sam counters, stepping towards him.

"What?"

"You can make people do things, can't you? You can tell them what to think."

"Thats crazy."

"It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, then you got better at controlling it."

"How did you know all this?"

"Cause the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire too. I have abilities too. You see, we're connected, you and me."

"You know what, just get out of here, all right?"

"Why'd you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?"

A stunned look appears on Andy's face. "What?"

Sam winces as images start to flash through his mind. "Why did you kill him?"

"I didn't!"

Sam grabs his head in pain and doubles over. Addison quickly hobbles over to him as Dean leaps out of the Impala and runs over. "Sam," Addison asks, placing a comforting hand on his back.

"I didn't do anything to him," Andy quickly tells him.

"A woman - a woman burning alive," Sam pants, looking up at Andy.

"Did you see anything else," Addison asks him.

"A gas station - a woman's gonna kill herself."

"What does he mean, 'going to?' What is he—" Andy asks.

"Shut up," Dean angrily interrupts.

"She gets triggered by a call on her cell," Sam continues.

Dean grabs his arm and helps Sam sit up. "When?"

"I don't know. But as long as we keep out eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her."

"I didn't hurt anybody," Andy shouts.

"Yeah, not yet," Sam counters as a fire truck drives by. "Go!" Addison watches as Dean runs over to the Impala and drives off. Andy starts to leave but stops at Sam's glare. "No, not you. You're staying here with me."

Addison grabs an empty crate and sits down. Remembering that she was there, Sam shoots her a concerned look. She smiles back. Andy opens his mouth, then closes it after Sam protectively steps in front of her. She rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless.

After five minutes of a tense silence, Sam's cell phone rings. Keeping his gaze on Andy, he pulls it out and answers. "Yeah?" He tightens his grip in his phone. "When? I don't know, all right? I can't control 'em. I don't know what the hell is going on. That doesn't make any sense." Addison frowns as he hangs up. "You can control people."

"You get premonitions about people about to die," Andy counters. Sam reluctantly nods. "That's impossible."

"People would say the same about you," Addison comments, patting Sam's leg in reassurance.

"Death visions?"

"Yeah," Sam replies.

"Dude, that sucks. When I got my mind thing, it was like a gift, you know? It was like I won the lotto."

"But you still live in a van. I don't get it. I mean you could have anything you ever wanted."

"I've got everything I need."

Sam studies the man standing a few feet away from him. "So, you're really not a killer, huh?"

"Told ya," Addison mutters. Sam shoots her a glare while Andy laughs and nods in agreement.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Andy says.

"That's good. It means there's hope for the both of us," Sam replies.

The roar of the Impala signals an arrival. Addison glances over her shoulder to see Dean climb out. "Victim's names was Holly Beckett," Dean announces climbing out and walking over to them. "Forty-one, single."

"Who is she," Sam asks Andy.

"Never heard of her," Andy answers.

"I called Ash on the way over here," Dean begins. "He came up with a little something. Apparently, Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983. Same day you were born, Andy."

"Andy, were you adopted," Sam asks him.

Andy shrugs. "Well, yeah."

Addison glares at him. She pulls herself up. "And you didn't think to mention that little fact?"

"It never really came up. I mean, I never knew my birth parents. And, like you said, my adopted mom died when I was a baby. Do you think this Holly woman could actually be—"

"I don't know," Dean interrupts. "I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only. Sealed in the county office."

"Well, screw that."

* * *

"I probably shouldn't have let you kids in here," a security guard says as Dean, Sam, and Addison search through birth records. Each of them had a small stack in front of them in the dark office. It was small with one table in the middle with a long table with a fax machine/copier/printer and a computer against the wall.

"No, it'll all be fine, all right," Andy replies, putting a hand on the security guard's back. "Just go get a cup of coffee, all right? These aren't the droids you're looking for."

"Awesome," Dean comments.

Addison rolls her eyes and opens another folder. After scanning the first page, she smiles. "Found it." The three men look at her, waiting. "Um, Holly Beckett was indeed you biological mother, Andy."

"Does anyone have a Vicodin," Andy asks, stunned.

"Well, I don't know if this will help, but Dr. Jennings was her doctor and oversaw the adoption. You have a connection to each of them."

"Yeah, but I didn't kill 'em."

"We believe you," Dean comments and Sam nods in agreement. "But, uh, who did?"

"Well, according to this…you have a twin," Addison answers. Andy stares at her in stunned silence. She shoves the file at Sam. "Go look up stuff, Sam." He takes the file and walks over to the computer.

Dean makes a whipping noise causing Sam and Addison to stare at him. "What?"

"I have…an evil twin," Andy says in disbelief for the umpteenth time. Addison glances at him. She understood his shock, but was annoyed that he had said it over and over while they were waiting for Sam to find out who Andy's twin was. Dean had helped speed up the process by doing some research.

"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption," Sam says, sitting down next to Addison. "You went to the Gallagher family, obviously. And your brother went to the Weems family from upstate."

Dean puts a hand on Andy's shoulder. "Andy, how you doing," he asks. "Still with us?"

"Um, what was my brother's name," Andy asks, not answering Dean's question. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to find something to do to give him some kind of comfort.

Sam scans the page. "Here, um, Ansem Weems." Andy shakes his head, moving his gaze to the ground. "He's got a local address."

Andy looks up. "Wait, he lives here?"

Noise comes from the fax machine. "Let's get a look at him," Dean comments, standing up from where he was sitting by the computer. "There's a picture coming over from the DMW right now." He grabs the paper. Addison raises an eyebrow when a shocked look appears on Dean's face. "I hate to kick you while you-"

Addison grabs the paper out of his hand. "Holy shit," she exclaims.

"What," Andy asks, looking between them. Addison hands him the paper. The picture on the paper was of the busboy they had met earlier that day. Dean pushes Addison and she looks at him. He glares at her and she rolls her eyes.

* * *

"All right, Andy. Tell us everything you know about this guy," Sam says as the Impala speeds down the road. They were trying to find Webber and decided to start at the address listed on his driver's license.

"Webber shows up one day, eight months ago, acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kind of weird, like, trying too hard, you know," Andy answers from where he sat in the backseat next to Addison.

Addison frowns. Nothing about Webber made sense. "He probably knew that you guys were twins, but why would he change his name?"

"No clue."

Sam groans in pain. He grabs his head as pain erupts. "Sam," Dean asks, glancing at his younger brother. "Sam?"

Addison leans forward. "Sam," she asks, putting a hand on his back. It was obvious that he was having a vision. Dean pulls the Impala off the road. She helplessly watches as Dean climbs out and runs over to the passenger side. He opens the door and Sam falls into his arms. “Sam!”

* * *

Addison rubs Sam's back, trying to give him some form of comfort. His vision had been about Webber attacking, Tracy, the woman they had meet at the diner. They were parked close enough for Sam to go confront Webber. Sam and Dean were going through the weapons cash in the trunk. "You guys should stay back," Sam tells him.

"No argument here. I've had my head screwed with enough for one day," Dean replies and Addison laughs.

"I'm coming with you," Andy says.

“Andy—" Sam starts.

"Look, if it's Tracy out there, then I'm coming."

Sam looks to Dean and Addison for help. She shrugs. He sighs. "Okay," Sam reluctantly says. He didn't want Andy coming with him, but there was nothing he could do.

Addison smiles at Sam and leans against the Impala, watching as they walk off. She turns to Dean, who slams the trunk shut. "What's your plan?"

"Hide in the bushes," Dean replies. She nods and starts to follow him. "You're not coming."

"You can't leave me here alone, Dean," Addison counters.

He stares at her for a moment. “All right, fine. But only because I don't want you bitching about me leaving you here alone."

She sighs and together they walk over to some bushes. From their point they could barely make out the figures of Sam, Andy, and Webber. A woman stood on the edge of the dam. Dean was watching through the scope of his rifle. Suddenly, he sits up and aims the rifle at her. "Dean, what are you doing?" The look in his eyes showed that he was trying to fight against whatever force was pushing him to aim the gun at her. "Dean, you have to fight it. I know you don't want to do this." His finger hovers over the trigger and as he gets ready to pull it, a shot rings out. Dean lowers the rifle and Addison lets out a sigh of relief.

* * *

The three of them are watching as Andy talks with the officers that had arrived at the dam. Webber's body had been taken away. Tracy sat in the back of an ambulance. "Look at him. He's getting better at it," Sam comments. They watch as Andy looks at Tracy, who turns away in response.

Andy sighs and walks over to them. "She won't even look at me."

"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up."

"No, it's — this is different. I never used my mind thing on her before — before last night. She's scared of me now."

"Andy, I hate to do this, but, we have to get out of here." Sam hands Andy a piece of paper. "Here, I wrote down my cell. You don't have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, you call me up."

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back," Dean answers and they walk towards the Impala.

"Looks like I was right," Sam comments and Addison looks at him.

"Right about what," Addison asks.

"Andy. He's a killer, after all."

"No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved Addison's life," Dean counters.

"Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody."

"Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was pushed into that."

"Webber was pushed in his own way too, Dean. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death."

"What's your point, Sam?"

"Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Maybe that's what the demon's doing - pushing us, finding ways to break us."

"Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it."

"You know, I heard you before, Dean. When Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am."

"That was mind control! It's like being Roofie'd, man, that doesn't count."

"What?"

"No, I'm calling a do-over," Dean tells him. Addison laughs.

"How old are you again," Addison amusingly asks him.

"Doesn't matter. We've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it."

"Yeah. I guess," Sam reluctantly says as Dean's phone rings and he answers it.

"Hello? Ellen? What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there."

* * *

The three of them are quietly sitting at the bar in the Roadhouse, having just arrived there. Sam sat between Addison and Dean. Addison comfortingly pats Sam's thigh, letting him know that she was there for him. "Jo? Go pull up another case of beer," Ellen tells Jo.

“Mom—" Jo begins.

"Now. Please," Ellen asks. She waits until Jo is gone before rounding on them. "So, you wanna tell me about this last hunt of yours?"

"No. Not really," Dean replies. Ellen glares at him. "No offense, just...it's kind of a family thing."

"Not anymore." Ellen pulls out a pile of papers and sits it on the bar. "I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six-month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?"

"Yeah, we think so," Sam answers.

"Sam," Dean warns.

"Why," Ellen asks.

"None of your business."

Ellen glares at Dean. "You mind your tone with me, boy. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad is coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we've got is us, together. No secrets or half-truths here."

"There are people out there, like Andrew Gallagher, like me. And, um, we all have some kind of ability," Sam says after a moment.

"Ability?"

"Yeah, a psychic ability. Me...I have visions...premonitions. I don't know, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us."

"What kind of plans?"

"We don't really know for sure."

"These people out there, these psychics — are they dangerous?"

"No. Not all of them," Dean sternly says.

"But some are. Some are very dangerous," Sam counters.

"Okay, how many of 'em are we looking at," Ellen asks them.

"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six-month birthday," Dean answers.

"That's not true," Addison comments and they look at her. "Ansem Weems, uh, Webber, there was no kind of house fire. In fact, there was nothing out of the ordinary in his files."

"Which breaks the pattern. So, if there's any others like him, there'll be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down," Ellen reasons.

"And so, who knows how many of 'em are really out there," Dean comments.

"Jo, honey," Ellen calls.

"Yeah," Jo replies, looking up from wiping one of the empty tables. 

"You better break out the whiskey instead."

* * *

Addison yawns as she opens the bathroom door. She stumbles back upon seeing Dean. She rolls her eyes and starts to move around him, but stops when he holds up the mostly empty bottle of whiskey. “Ellen’s gonna kick your ass.” she tells him.

Dean shrugs. “She won’t notice it.” He moves closer and she can feel his body heat. “It’ll be like that time we stole that bottle of Jamison from your dad.”

Addison nods. “Mmm. Did Jo turn you down?”

“Nothing against Jo, but she’s not what I need right now.”

“And what exactly is that you need?”

“I think you know exactly what I need.”

She knows what that look in his eyes is. It’s one that she’s seen more than once. It’s the one that she’s had in her own eyes more than once. Addison sighs. “My back hurts,” she softly confesses. He frowns and pushes past her into the bathroom. She shakes her head and makes her way down to the room Ellen was letting her stay in. It was nice to have a room to herself for once. She crawls onto the twin bed and lets out a relived breath. She drops her glasses on the nightstand and buries her face in the pillow. The door opens and Addison looks over her shoulder to see Dean. She closes her eyes and turns back to the pillow as Dean closes the door. “Did Sam kick you out?”

Dean remains silent as he shrugs off his jacket and outer shirt before climbing onto the bed. Addison raises an eyebrow as he settles in next to her. A silence settles over the two of them, each lost in their own thoughts.


	6. No Exit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison rolls her eyes as Sam puts her duffel bags in the trunk of the Impala. She did think that it was sweet that he insisted on carrying her bags, but she was annoyed that he kept treating her like a piece of fine china. “Los Angeles, California.” Dean states. 

Addison leans against the Impala and raises an eyebrow. “L.A.?”

“A young girl has been kidnapped by an evil cult.” 

“She got a name?”

“Katie Holmes.”

Sam laughs. Addison shakes her head, smiling. “That’s funny. And for you, so bitchy.” Sam says.

Yelling from within the Roadhouse reaches them. They turn to look at the bar. “Of course, on the other hand -- cat fight.”

“You know, I think we should stay out here and let them argue since it seems to be a whole mother/daughter issue.” Addison says. She stares in disbelief as Dean walks to the bar. Sam shrugs and follows after his brother. “Great.”

Addison slips in behind Dean and stands next to him. The door slams shut causing Ellen and Jo to look at them. “Guys, bad time.” Ellen says.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam replies.

“Yeah, we rarely drink before ten, anyway.” Dean finishes and Addison turns to walk out of the building. 

“Wait. I wanna know what they think about this.” Jo states.

“I don’t care what they think.” Ellen tells her as a family enters the Roadhouse.

Addison smiles at the bright yellow shirts they’re wearing with ‘Nebraska is for Lovers’ written across the chest. “Are you guys open?” the man holding a young child asks. 

“No!” “Yes!”

“We’ll just check out the Arby’s down the road.” 

Addison nods agreement as the family walks out. She taps Sam’s leg with her crutch and motions to the door. “Let’s go get some cheddar roast beef sandwiches.” Addison tells them as the phone rings and Jo walks over to them.

Jo hands Dean a file. “Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.” Dean stares at the file. “Take it, it won’t bite.” 

“No, but your mom might,” Dean counters. An annoyed look appears on Jo’s face and he reluctantly takes it. Sam looks over Dean’s shoulder as he flips through the file. Newspaper clippings and pictures printed off line were in it.

“And this girl wasn’t the first. Over the past eighty years, six women have vanished -- all from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So, we’re either dealing with one very old serial killer or—”

“Who put this together? Ash?”

“I did it myself.”

“Hmm...”

“I’ve got admit, we’ve hit the road for a lot less,” Sam comments. Addison stares at him. She didn’t want to take a case. 

Ellen walks back over to them. “Good. If you like the case so much, you take it.” 

“Mom!”

“Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won’t loose you, too. I just won’t.”

* * *

“I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo’s case,” Sam says, opening the door and they enter the apartment. The building was situated in downtown Philadelphia. From what Addison had read in the file, the building had been some old warehouse built in the twenties before being converted into apartments.

“Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out here, working one of these things? I don’t think so,” Dean replies. Addison walks over to a light switch, frowning when she sees something. “Getting anything.” 

“Um, we have extremely pissed off ghost.” Addison comments and touches the black goo coming from the light switch. “I’ve seen a lot of screwed up stuff, but I’ve only seen ectoplasm a few times.”

“All right, let’s find this badass before he snags anymore girls,” Dean tells them and they exit the apartment. Hearing voice walking towards them, they hide behind a corner. Addison frowns as they voice grow closer. The three of them step out of the hiding space just as Jo and the building’s superintendent come walking around the corner. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey.” Jo replies and walks over to them, squeezing in between Addison and Dean. Addison stumbles and Sam steadies her by placing a hand on her back. Jo wraps an arm around Dean’s waist. “This is my boyfriend, Dean, and his buddies Sam and Addison.”

“Good to meet you. Quite a gal you’ve got here.” the super responds, shaking Dean’s hand. 

“Oh, yeah, she’s a pistol.” Dean sarcastically says.

“So, did you already check out the apartment?” Jo asks. Dean stares in response. “The one for rent?”

“Yeah, yes. Love it. Great flow.”

“How’d you get in,” the super asks.

“It was open.”

“Now, Ed, when did the last tenant move out,” Jo asks the super.

“Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stiffed me for the rent.”

“Well, her loss, our gain. Cause if Dean-o loves it, that’s good enough for me. We’ll take it.” Jo says.

“Oh, sweetie.” Dean replies, hitting Jo on the back.

A fake smile appears on Jo’s face. She pulls out a wad of cash from her pocket and holds it out to the super. “We’ll take it.”

“Okay,” the super replies, stunned. He takes the money and gives Jo a key before walking away. Jo grins at them. Addison rolls her eyes and hobbles past Jo.

* * *

“I’ll flip you for the sofa.” Jo comments as the four of them sit in the apartment. Jo was going through her research while Dean and Sam loaded and cleaned the guns. Addison was sitting on the couch, with her laptop on her lap and her leg propped up on the coffee table.

“Does your mother even know you’re here?” Dean asks the blonde. 

“I told her I was going to Vegas.”

“You think she’s gonna buy that?” 

“I’m not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos.” 

“You shouldn’t lie like that to your mother, Jo, and you shouldn’t be here.” Addison comments, not looking up. 

“Well, I am. And shouldn’t you be doing something besides online shopping.” Jo counters.

“Where’d you get all that money from, anyways?” Sam asks before Addison has a chance to respond.

“Working at the Roadhouse.” Jo answers. 

“Hunters don’t tip that well.” Dean replies.

“Well, they aren’t that good at poker, either.”

Dean’s phone rings and Addison looks up. “Yeah. Oh, hi, Ellen.” She watches as Jo walks over to him and they argue. “I haven’t seen her. Yeah, I’m sure. Absolutely.” Dean hangs up and Addison sees Jo give him a bright smile.

A few hours later, Addison is sitting next to Sam at the small dining room looking over the research that Jo had done about the building and missing girls. Addison kept glancing at the small knife that Jo was twirling. “This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago.” Jo explains from where she was sitting across from Addison. 

“Yeah? What was here before 1924?” Dean asks, pacing around the dining room/living room.

“Nothing. Empty field.” 

“So, most likely scenario — someone died bloody in the building and now he’s back and raising hell.” Sam comments and Addison frowns, looking at the picture of the empty field.

“I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths, unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor.” 

“What about police reports or county death records?” Addison asks Jo.

“Obituaries, mortuary reports, and seven other sources. I do know what I’m doing.” Jo coldly tells the older woman.

“I think the jury’s still out on that one.” Dean replies. “Could you put the knife down?” Jo reluctantly puts the knife down on the table.

“Okay. So, it’s something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought the spirit with it,” Sam says.

“We’ve gotta scan the whole building. Whatever we can get to, right?” Jo asks. 

“Right. So, you and me — we’ll take the top two floors. Sam’ll take the bottom two floors.” Dean tells them.

“We’d move faster if we split up.” Jo counters and Addison lets out a sigh. 

“Oh, this isn’t negotiable.” Dean turns to Addison. “You gonna be okay alone, Gimpy?”

“Don’t make me whack you.” Addison counters, smirking at him.

* * *

A smirk appears on Addison’s face as the very cute doctor removed the cast from her right leg. His brown hair was slicked back and the flecks of grey mixed in. The tan line on his ring finger indicated a recent break up, at least that’s what she was hoping for anyway. “I’m so embarrassed.” she says, covering parts of her leg. “The last time my leg was this hairy was when Justin Timberlake was on the Mickey Mouse Club.”

The doctor laughs. “Trust me, I’ve seen far hairier legs. But yours is the prettiest.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Sam clears his throat. Addison glares at him. She had no idea why he insisted on coming with her. “Does Addison have to wear a boot or is she okay without one?”

“Well, after looking through the file and the x-rays, I’m gonna recommend one for a few of weeks. Mainly just to get your leg used to not being in a cast anymore.” the doctor explains. “We’ll you fitted for one and you’ll be ready to go.”

“And what about her back?”

“My back’s fine.” Addison quickly says. “Doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Well, the MRIs showed that everything was fine. There’s no more swelling.” the doctor tells them. “But I would recommend taking it easy for a few more weeks. No heavy lifting.”

Addison smiles and nods, watching as the doctor walks out. The door closes and she turns on Sam. “What the hell are you doing?” she hisses.

“I just asked a question.” Sam replies.

“No, you’re totally cock blocking me, Sam. And that is a hot, newly single doctor.”

“What makes you think that he’s single?”

“Tan line on his ring finger.” 

“He probably took it off, Addison. He’s a doctor, he’s not gonna sleep with a patient. Besides, you shouldn’t be having one night stands until your leg and back is fully healed.”

Addison rolls her eyes. “All right, whatever you say, Sam.”

* * *

Sam watches Addison walk next to him, drinking the frappuccino she had ordered. Her cast had been replaced with a black walking boot. It had been quick, but he had seen her shut him out. An awkwardness had appeared between them since that moment in the doctor’s office. “Addison, look—”

“Oh, look, there's a hot cop, maybe you can cock block me there too.” Addison snaps.

“You don't think it suspicious that there's a bunch of  cops outside of the building where a ghost is kidnapping girls that look exactly like Jo." Sam argues.

"Nope."

Sam sighs as he turns to a man standing in the back of the crowd. "Excuse me, but what’s going on?”

“A woman went missing last night.” the man answers and Sam shoots Addison a knowing look. “Apparently, there’s no signs of a break in, but there’s signs of a struggle.”

“That’s horrible.” Addison softly replies. She tensely smiles and makes her way around the group of onlookers. They pass police officers walking out of the building. Addison ignores Sam and climbs up the stairs. She hated ignoring Sam, but she was terrified. She opens the apartment door and walks in. Dean and Jo were sitting at the table. “The ghost snatched another girl last night.”

* * *

“Teresa Ellis apartment 2F.” Dean announces walking back into the apartment. He had gone to gather information on the girl that had disappeared the night before while the rest of them went over the research again. He plops down in a chair next to Addison. “Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn.”

“And her apartment,” Jo asks him.

“Cracks all over the plaster — walls, ceiling. There’s ectoplasm too.” 

“Between that and that tuft of hair, I’d say this sucker’s coming from the walls,” Sam comments.

“Yeah, but who is it? The building’s history is totally clean.”

“What about the building next door,” Addison asks and places a photo of an empty lot on top. “There are bars on the windows of the building that was next door, so yeah, we’re next to a building that used to house Philly’s worst criminals.”

Jo grabs her phone and walks over to one of the windows. Dean looks between Sam and Addison. He could sense that something was different. “Anything interesting happen this morning?” 

“Unless you count getting my cast off and a boot instead, then no,” Addison answers as Jo walks back over. 

“Okay,” Jo says, sitting down at the table. “Moyamensing Prison — built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this — they used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door.”

“Well, then we need a list of all the people executed there,” Sam tells her. 

“Ash is already on it.”

Ten minutes later, they’re crowded around Sam’s computer, watching as he scrolls through a long list of names. Addison was pressed against his side, but he ignored the feeling. “157 names,” Sam asks, glancing at Jo.

“We’ve got to narrow that down,” Dean tells him. “Or else we’re gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs.”

“Herman Webster Mudgett?” Sam turns to Addison. “Wasn’t that H.H. Holmes’ real name?” 

Realization crosses Addison’s face. She shakes her head. “We are so fucked.”

“What are you talking about?” Jo asks her.

“Herman Webster Mudgett is more commonly known as H.H. Holmes. He was hanged in an empty field next to an old prison. He was America’s first serial killer before the term was coined by a bunch of psychologists in the twentieth century.” Addison explains.

“Yeah, he confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred.” Sam continues.

“And his victim flavor of choice? Pretty petite blondes,” Dean says. Jo tensely smiles, but it was obvious she was a little freaked out. “He used chloroform to kill ‘em...which is what I smelled in the hallway last night.

“Yeah, at his place the cops found human remains.” Addison comments. “Some bone fragments and long locks of bloody, blonde hair.

Dean shakes his head. “Boy, you sure knew how to pick ‘em.”

“So, we’ll just find the bones, salt them, and burn them, right?” Jo asks and Addison shakes her head.

“Holmes requested that his body be buried in cement so that no one could dissect his body since that’s what he did.” Addison answers. 

“We might have an even bigger problem than that,” Sam comments. 

“How does this get bigger,” Jo replies.

“Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. They called it the Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory. It had trapdoors, acid vats, quicklime pits. He built these secret chambers inside the walls. He’d lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he’d suffocate, others he’d let starve to death.” 

“So, Teresa could still be alive. She could be inside the walls.”

“We need sledgehammers, crowbars -- we’ve gotta smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl,” Dean tells them.

* * *

The tension between her and Sam hadn’t eased up during their search of the first floor of the apartment building. Addison sighs. She knew that he wouldn’t press the issue, especially after what he had said earlier. “Look, Ads, I get that you're pissed." Sam begins.

"Yeah, Sam, I am. Despite what you believe Dean and I aren't together." Addison snaps.

Sam glances down at her. “I know.”

"And I don't need someone to look out for me."

"I know."

"Well, stop cock blocking me unless you're gonna fuck me!" Addison crosses her eyes in realization remembering that her back was pressed against Sam’s chest. “And I just realized that this is the worst place to have this conservation." 

Sam shines the flashlight around the space. He was too big to go any further, but Addison was the right size. “You’ll have to keep going.”

Addison scoffs. “Yeah. Like I’ll go off by myself, while still technically incapacitated, when there’s a serial killer ghost roaming around the building.”

“You’re not Holmes’ type, Addison.” 

Addison rolls her eyes and goes back the way they came. As they walk up to the second floor, they run into Dean. “Where’s the fire, Dean?”

“He’s got Jo,” Dean tells them. 

“What,” Sam asks. “How’d that happen?”

“I wasn’t with her. I left her alone. Damn it!”

“Dean,” Addison begins, as they walk back to the apartment. “Chill out. We’ll find her, okay?” 

“Where?” 

“Inside the walls.” Sam says.

“We’ve been inside the wall all night. If none of the other girls are there, she won’t be either.” Dean argues as they enter the apartment.

“We just need to take a breather and think about this.” Addison tells him. “Maybe we missed something about Holmes’ M.O.”

“We better freaking think fast.” Dean tells them. His cell phone starts ringing. “Yeah?” Addison and Sam sit down at the table. “Ellen. She’s gonna have to call you back. Her and Addison are taking care of feminine business.” Addison shoots Dean an unamused look. “Look, we’ll get her back. The spirit we’re hunting. It took her. She’ll be okay, I promise. What? It won’t. I won’t let it. Ellen, I’m sorry. I really am.” Dean hangs up his phone. He turns to them, an expectant look on his face.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Dean.” Sam says. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

“Yeah. Cause Jo is Jo and I don’t think anything would’ve stopped her from being on this job.” Addison comments.

“Tell me you’ve got something.” Dean demands.

Sam and Addison exchange a look. They were both worried about Jo and Dean. “Maybe.” Sam starts. Dean walks over to them. Sam spreads the old black and white crime scene photos out. “If you look at the layout of the Holmes Murder Castle, there’s other torture chambers inside the walls, right?" 

“Right.”

“But there’s one we haven’t considered yet — the one in his basement.”

“This building doesn’t have a basement.”

Addison puts a blueprint on top of the rest of the research. “Yeah, but beneath the foundation is the old sewer system. It hasn’t been used—” 

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Addison was trying not to gag as she crawled between Dean and Sam in the sewer system. She had been perfectly okay with sitting next to the sewer entrance. Until Sam pointed out that if the victim before Jo was still alive, then someone needed to lead her out. A disgusting smell reaches her nose. “I think I’m gonna puke,” Addison complains.

Dean glances at her. A queasy look was on her face. “Dude,” Sam says, shooting Dean an annoyed look.

“My eyes are burning.”

“You’re a real comedian, Addison,” Dean mutters. He sees the end of the tunnel and picks up his pace. Holmes was reaching in to a small hole in the wall. Dean pulls out a shotgun and aims it at Holmes. “Hey!” Holmes looks at him and Dean fires causing the ghost to disappear. He pushes open the gate and they climb out into a large room. “Jo?” 

“I’m here,” Jo shouts back.

Addison stands there as Dean opens Jo’s cubicle and as Sam opens Teresa Ellis’. She weakly smiles at both of the women. “You okay, Jo,” she asks.

Jo shrugs. “Been better. Let’s get the hell out of here before he comes back.”

“Actually, I don’t think you’re leaving here just yet,” Dean says.

“What?”

“Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan? Now, it’s kind of the only one we’ve got.”

Addison puts a comforting hand on Teresa’s shoulder. “How about we get out of here?”

* * *

Addison yawns as she walks back into the apartment building. She had stayed with Teresa at the hospital until her boyfriend had gotten there. And she had finally scored a date with a cute doctor. But she left the second she saw the police show up. Entering the apartment, Addison notices the tense silence. Dean, Sam, and Jo were quickly packing up while Ellen angrily watching. Addison starts to walk back out. “Addison.” Ellen greets.

“Fuck,” Addison whispers. She turns back around. “Hey, Ellen.”

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me.,” Ellen coldly counters. “You’re just as much as part of this as they are.”

Addison stares at the older woman, then shrugs. “I’ll just go pack then.”

The drive back to the Roadhouse was tense. Nothing could ease the tension in the car. And Addison hated being squeezed been Jo and Sam for the entire drive. She also hated that she missed her date with the cute doctor. They enter the Roadhouse, all of them exhausted. “Ellen,” Dean begins. “This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you and I’m sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” Ellen snaps. “Not you. I need a moment with my daughter — alone.” 

Not ones to argue with Ellen, the three of them quickly leave the bark. “Way to go, Dean,” Addison murmurs.

“Guys, don’t,” Sam says before Dean. “We’re all tired. Okay.”

“I was just saying what I thought, Ads,” Dean replies, ignoring Sam.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s just find the nearest motel,” Addison says, leaning against the Impala.

The bar door slams open and they turn to see Jo. Jo barely glances at them. Dean goes after her. “That bad, huh,” he asks. 

“Not right now,” Jo coldly replies.

Dean puts a hand on her shoulder. “What happened? Hey, talk to me.” 

Jo shoves him away. “Get off me!”

“Sorry, see you around.”

Jo stands there for a second, then turns around. “Dean.” He stops and looks at her. “It turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone. This guy did too. But I guess my father figured her could trust him — a mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed.” 

“What does this have to do—”

“It was your father, Dean.”

Dean’s taken back. Addison glances at Sam to find him intensely paying attention. “Why do you think John never came back? Never told you about us? Cause he couldn’t look my mom in the eye after that. That’s why?”

“Jo—”

“Just...just get out of here. Please, just leave.”

Jo continues walking away. Dean hangs his head and climbs into the Impala. Addison places a hand on Sam’s arm. While it had a bigger impact on Dean, she knew that it had an impact on Sam too. She smiles at him, then climbs into the backseat. After a couple of minutes, Sam climbs in and the Impala drives away from Harvelle’s Roadhouse.


	7. The Usual Suspects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison looks up when the interrogation room door opens. She hated being in the police station, even through her and Sam hadn't technically been arrested. But that didn't make her feel any better. The woman didn't seem intimidating at all. She carried a file along with a coffee cup. "Figured you'd like something to drink."

"Thank you, Detective..." Addison trails off.

"Ballard."

Addison nods, watching as Ballard sits down across from her. "I'm guessing the bad cop is coming later."

"He's with Dean Winchester."

"So, why am I here?"

"Dean's being held on suspicion of murder. And we're waiting to see about you and Sam, Addison Sloan." Ballard opens the file. "You're twenty-seven years old. Your mother died from a wild dog attack while she was hiking in the woods when you were a baby. You and your father, Patrick Sloan, immigrated here from London, England, when you were about two years old. About every six months, you moved, except for when you lived in Saw River, New York for a year. But you were able to remain a straight A student. Got into Yale with a full ride and graduated magna cum laude. Your last known address was for an apartment in New Haven, along with Wesley Bennet, who you were engaged to."

"Wow, you guys really do your background checks here."

"We like to be thorough. Except you left New Haven right after graduation."

Addison shrugs. "The man I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with called off our wedding and kicked me out of our apartment. I wanted to be far away from him or anything that reminded me of him."

"And how's that going?"

"Saw the second largest ball of twine. Boring."

"We ran Dean's fingerprints through IAFIS." Addison stares at Ballard. "Got over a dozen possible hits."

"And?"

"Makes me wonder what we'll find when we run your prints."

Addison shrugs indifference. "I'm sure you'll let me know."

Ballard sighs and closes the file. She leans forward. "Addison, we know that you're one of the young women that Dean tortured in St. Louis. And detectives there are exhuming a corpse, trying to figure out how he faked his own death. You don't have to be afraid anymore. We caught him red handed at Karen Giles' murder scene. You tell us what you know and you'll be able to walk out of here."

Addison sighs. "Apparently their dad and Tony Giles were old friends. Their dad and Tony were in the service together. So, when we heard about his death, we came as soon as could."

_Addison gives Sam a thankful smile when he sets a try of coffee cups down on the table they were sitting at. They were sitting at a coffee shop in Washington D.C. It had been her idea to go there for a vacation, which only lasted a day. But she enjoyed getting to see some of the monuments and museums, even if Dean bitched the entire time. Dean was reading the paper and then lays it on the table. "Anthony Giles."_

_"Is he any way related to Rupert Giles?” Addison amusingly asks and Dean stares at her. "Buffy's watcher. Did you only pay attention to Willow and Tara?"_

_"Baltimore lawyer. Working late at his office, check it out.” Dean replies, ignoring Addison's question. He slides the paper to Sam._

_"'His throat was slit but the room was clean.' Huh. No DNA, no prints.” Sam reads out loud._

_"Keep reading, it gets better."_

_"'Security cameras failed to capture footage of the assailant.'"_

_"So, someone either messed with the tapes or..." Addison trails off._

_"It's an invisible killer.” Sam finishes._

_"My favorite kind. What do you think, Scully? We'll check it out.” Dean asks and Addison rolls her eyes._

_"I'm not Scully, you're Scully."_

_"No, I'm Mulder. You're a red-headed woman."_

_"As long as I get to be Buffy, I don't really care.” Addison comments and smirks over the top of her cup. "Dean can be Xander."_

"We weren't even in town when Tony died.” Addison says.

Ballard nods. "So, tell me what happened next."

"We decided to go see Karen." Addison shakes her head. "Poor Karen. We all just wanted to be there for her. You know?"

_Addison gives Karen Giles a sad smile as the woman digs through paperwork, crying. She wanted to give the woman a comforting hug, but it would break their cover. “Insurance." Karen sniffles. "I totally forgot about the insurance.”_

_"We're so sorry to be bother you right now, Mrs. Giles.” Addison softly tells her. "But the company is required to conduct its own investigation."_

_"Sure."_

_"Well, if you could just tell us anything you remember about the night your husband died.” Sam softly says._

_"Tony and I were just supposed to have dinner. He called and said that he was having computer troubles and that he had to work late. And that was it."_

_"Do you have any idea who could've done this to him?"_

_"No. No. It's like I told the police. I-I have no idea."_

_"Did Tony mention anything unusual to you in the days before his death?” Dean asks and Addison resists the urge to look at him._

_“Unusual?"_

_"Yeah, like, strange."_

_"Strange?"_

_"You know, Karen, weird. Weird noises, visions, anything like that?” Dean asks. Sam clears his throat, glaring at Dean. Addison just shoots Dean a dirty look._

_"He had a nightmare the day before he died."_

_"What kind of nightmare?” Addison softly asks._

_"Uh, he said that he woke up in the middle of the night and there was a woman standing at the foot of the bed. He blinked. She was gone. I mean, it was just a nightmare."_

_"Did he say what she looked like?” Dean asks._

_"What the hell difference does it make what she looked like?"_

_"Our company is just extremely thorough.” Addison quickly answers._

_"He said she was pale and she had dark, red eyes.” Karen replies and they nod._

Addison brushes back some of her hair. "I gave Karen a hug and told her to call me if she ever needed anything. I figured it was the least I could do."

"Addison, honey, I am trying to help you here, but you have got to be honest with me."

"I am being honest, Detective."

"We have an eyewitness, someone who saw two men and a woman, fitting yours and the Winchesters description, breaking into Giles' office."

"Karen called. She said there were things in Tony's office that she wanted, but the police weren't letting her in. So, we said that we would get the stuff. I know it was wrong since his office is still a crime scene. But I wanted to make Karen feel better and if getting that stuff for her helped, then..."

_When they enter Anthony Giles' office, the first thing Addison sees a blood stain on the floor. She quickly adverts her gaze and moves away from the door. A desk and a couple of chairs were towards the back of the room, while filing cabinets were along the wall. "Hey. Anthony Giles' body was found right about here," Sam says and Addison shakes her head in disbelief. "Throat slit so deep, part of his spinal cord was visible."_

_"What do you think? Vengeful spirit? Underline 'vengeful'," Dean asks them._

_"Could be. I mean, he did see that woman," Addison replies._

_Dean grabs a piece of paper from the printer and hands it to Addison. "Take a look at this."_

_Addison raises an eyebrow at the words 'Dana Shulps' written over and over. "Is Dana Shulps some kind of name," she asks, handing the paper to Sam._

_"I don't know, but it's everywhere. 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'"_

_Addison turns as Sam blows on the glass desk and sees the name written again. "Wow. I'd say we've officially crossed over into weird," he says._

_“Maybe Giles knew her."_

_"Could be the name of our red-eyed mystery lady," Addison comments._

_"Well, let's see what we can find," Dean replies, pulling out a drawer from a filing cabinet. Time passes as the three of them searches Giles' office and Addison lets out a sigh. Dean closes the filing cabinet and takes a seat in front of the desk. "There's not a single mention of a Dana Shulps anywhere. There's not a D. Shulps. Or any other kind of fucking Shulps."_

_"I haven't found anything either."_

_"What do you got," Dean asks Sam._

_"Nothing. No Dana Shulps has ever lived or died in Baltimore in the last fifty years, at least," Sam replies._

_"So, what now?"_

_"Well, I think I'm pretty close to cracking Giles' password. Maybe there's something in his personal files, you know?"_

_"By 'close,' you mean…"_

_"Thirty minutes, maybe?"_

_"Awesome." Dean plops down in one of the chairs. "So, I guess I just get to hang out. That's awesome." Addison turns her attention back to the file she was looking through and lets out a sigh when Dean starts making noises._

_"Dean," Addison warns and he shoots up from the chair._

_"All right, I'm gonna go talk to Karen again, see if she knows anything about this Dana Shulps, huh?"_

_“Great." Sam says, not looking away from the computer._

_Dean starts to walk out, but pauses by Addison, causing her to look up at him. "You coming?"_

_"No. I haven't finished going through these files yet.” Addison explains and Dean nods, quickly exiting the office._

"So, Dean decided to go check up on Karen.” Addison continues. "She had been so upset and he just wanted to comfort her."

"Why didn't you go with him?"

"Dean and I...we don't exactly get along. I mean, he's a sweetheart when he wants to be, but otherwise he's just a dick all the time. I went back to the motel with Sam. I get along better with Sam. I think it's cause we're a lot alike." Addison sighs. She moves her gaze to the top of the table. "I know what it looks like, but Dean's a good guy. He wouldn't hurt anybody."

"Addison, I really do want to help you."

"Couldn't Dean have found Karen like that? What if you're just deciding it was him because you found him there? What if someone else killed Karen? You're letting her real killer get away."

Ballard sighs. In her mind, Addison had a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome. One that went back farther than that incident in St. Louis. She had found evidence that Addison and the Winchesters had been at schools at the same time. But she hadn't divulged that information to anyone yet.

Addison watches as Ballard walks out of the interrogation room. She knew exactly where Ballard was heading during the questioning and had played to it. After sitting in the room for a couple of hours, without anyone visiting her, Addison makes her way to the door. She unbuttons a couple of extra buttons on her shirt. A young uniformed police officer was sitting a desk. "Excuse me.” she softly says, causing the officer to look up. "Where's the bathroom?

"It's, uh, it's just down the hall.” the young officer stutters.

She smiles at him. "Thank you."

"But I'm not supposed to let you leave interrogation."

"What if you just stood right outside the door, Officer..."

"Franklin. Joey Franklin."

"I really have to use the bathroom, Officer Joey."

Joey stares at her, then stands up. "I can stand outside the door." He leads her to the bathroom and stops in front of the door.

Addison presses a soft kiss against his cheek. "Thank you, Officer Joey." Once in the bathroom, she locks the door and notices that there isn't a window. After a few minutes, she opens the door and sheepishly smiles at Joey. "This is so embarrassing, but you wouldn't happen to have a quarter, would you?"

"No. But I can go get some change. Just stay here."

"Of course, Officer Joey." She watches he darts off, then continues down the hallway. After glancing into some rooms, she finally finds one with a window and a fire escape. "Jack pot." Addison locks the door and opens the window. She climbs out and quietly closes the window before making her way down the fire escape.

With no credit card, cash, or phone, it takes Addison a few hours to find their meeting place. Exhausted, she knocks on the door. And she tiredly grins at Sam, who immediately pulls her into a tight embrace. "I've been worried about you, Ads.” he murmurs against the top of her head.

Addison smiles against his chest. "I staged my own prison break...is it still a prison break when someone was never actually arrested?"

Sam laughs. She feels the vibrations in his chest. "Yeah."

* * *

After a short nap Addison stands to the side of Sam as he looks over Detective Ballard's wrists. They had continued with the hunt, even through Dean was in custody. Sam had filled her in on what Dean had discovered. But both had equally been surprised when Detective Ballard showed up at their motel room. Bruises encircled the older woman's wrists. "These showed up after you saw it," Sam asks.

"Yeah, I guess," Ballard answers.

"You have to tell us exactly what you saw," Addison says and Ballard looks at her.

"You know, I must be losing my mind. You're both fugitives. I should be arresting both of you."

"All right, well, you know what? You can arrest us later, after you live through this. But right now, you've gotta talk to us. Okay," Sam tells Ballard and she reluctantly nods. "Okay, great. Now, this spirit - what did it look like?"

"She was, um, really pale, and her throat was cut. And her eyes, they were this deep, dark red. It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn't. There was just...a lot of blood."

Addison grabs the photos from the table and hands them to Ballard. "I researched any woman who died or went missing from Ashland Street."

"How'd you get these? They're from crime scenes and booking photos."

Addison exchanges a look with Sam. "You have your job, we have ours. Tell us if you recognize anyone," Sam answers.

Ballard looks through the photos and pulls one out, handing it to Sam as Addison moves over to the paper covered table. "This is her. I'm sure of it."

"Claire Becker? Twenty-eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago?"

"But I don't even know her. Why would she come after me?"

"Before she died, Claire Becker was arrested twice for dealing heroin. Have you ever worked narcotics," Addison asks.

"Yeah. Pete and I did, before homicide."

Sam holds up the photo of Claire. "You ever bust her?"

"Not that I remember."

"Well, apparently she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place and didn't find anything. Which means we have to go and check it out, see if we can find her body," Addison explains.

"What?"

"Well, we've gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest," Sam replies.

"Of course it is," Ballard deadpans.

* * *

"So, what exactly are we looking for," Ballard asks as they enter the abandoned building on Ashland Street. The building was an abandoned hardware store in a rough neighborhood. A few of the windows were broken and graffiti was on the walls.

"We'll let you know," Addison answers, walking in a different direction as Sam heads up the stairs. She uses the flashlight to search around the room empty room, which consisted of metal shelves and trash. Ballard shouts and she runs back over to the detective as Sam reaches her.

"Hey," Sam says, grabbing Ballard's attention. "Hey, we're here. What is it? What happened?"

"Claire," Ballard answers.

"Where was she," Addison asks.

"She was here."

"Did she attack," Sam asks.

"No. She was just reaching out to me. She was over there, by the window," Ballard explains and moves over to a large shelving unit. "Hey, help me move this." Addison hands Sam her flashlight and helps Ballard move it, allowing the street light to come in. The words 'Ashland Sup' filter in. "Our little mystery word."

"Explains the extra letters," Addison comments and turns as Sam pulls out the EMF meter.

"What is that?"

"EMF meter. Detects the electromagnetic frequencies that spirits and certain remains give off."

"So, if Claire's body was here, that would indicate that?"

"Yeah. Well, that's a theory," Sam replies. The EMF meter goes off nears a brick wall. Sam exchanges a look with Addison. Looking around, Addison grabs a pole off of the ground and uses it to smash a hole in the wall. "I can…never mind." Sam takes a step back when Addison glares at him.

After a few minutes, Addison steps back and lets out a cough. "Whoa. There is definitely something in there."

"This is bothering me."

"Well, she is digging up a corpse," Ballard comments and Addison lets out a laugh.

"Yeah, well, it's part of the job. One that I usually try not to do," Addison replies, pulling bricks away.

"Then what," Ballard asks Sam.

"It's just...no vengeful spirit we've ever tussled with wanted to be wasted, so why the hell would Claire lead us to her remains? It doesn't make any sense," Sam answers.

"Sam, come help," Addison orders and Sam helps pull out a heavy bag. The two of them set it on the ground. Addison stands back as Sam cuts the rope. He opens the bag, revealing Claire's skeleton and Addison sees Claire's wrists are tied together. "Her wrists would be bruised exactly likes yours."

"That necklace mean something to you," Sam asks, motioning to the necklace on Claire.

"I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom-made over on Carson Street," Ballard explains and pulls out an identical necklace that she's wearing. "I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me."

"Now this all makes perfect sense," Sam says and Addison nods.

"I'm sorry?"

"Yeah. You see, Claire's not a vengeful spirit. She's a death omen."

"Excuse me?"

"Claire isn't killing people. She's trying to warn them. Sometimes spirits don't want vengeance, they want justice and that's why she led us here. She wants us to learn who her killer is," Addison explains to Ballard. "How much exactly do you know about your partner?"

"Oh my God."

"What," Sam asks.

"About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lock-up. Obviously, it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product."

"Somebody like a heroin dealer," Sam states.

"More like someone like Claire," Addison finishes.

* * *

"All right, thanks," Ballard says, hanging up her phone. They were driving to the police station, ready to confront Ballard's partner. Addison leans forward from her position in the back and exchanges a look with Sam when they see the look on Ballard's face.

"What is it," Sam asks.

"Pete just left the precinct. With Dean."

"What," Addison blurts out.

"He said the prisoner had to be transferred and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling, but he won't answer the radio," Ballard explains.

"Radio? He took a county vehicle," Sam asks and Addison frowns, confused.

"Yeah."

"Then it should have a LoJack. You've just gotta get it turned on," Sam replies and Addison leans back, letting out a frustrated sigh.

* * *

When they arrive at the empty field where Detective Sheridan and Dean are, Addison and Sam skid to a stop seeing that Sheridan was holding a gun and aiming it at Dean. "Pete! Put the gun down," Ballard orders, pulling out her gun.

"Diana? How'd you find me," Sheridan asks.

"I know about Claire."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Put the gun down!"

"No, I don't think so. You're fast. Pretty sure I'm faster."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I didn't do anything, Diana."

"It's a little late for that."

"It wasn't my fault. Claire was gonna turn me in, I had no choice."

"And Tony? Karen?"

"Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, then he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything. It was a mess. I had to clean it up. I just panicked."

"How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?"

"There's a way out. This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We can pin the whole thing on him, okay? No trail, nothing. Just one more dead scumbag."

"Hey," Dean exclaims.

"No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you," Sheridan begs and Ballard slowly lowers her gun. "Thank you. Thank you." Sheridan aims his gun at Dean and gets ready to shoot when Ballard suddenly shoots him in the leg, causing Sheridan to fall to the ground.

"Then why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass," Ballard angrily replies. Sheridan grabs her leg and she falls to the ground. He stands up and aims his gun as Addison and Sam move to help Dean.

"Don't do it! Don't do it," Sheridan warns. Claire appears by the van and Sheridan turns in shock. Ballard grabs her gun and shoots him in the back. They watch as Sheridan falls to the ground and Claire disappears. 

* * *

 

Addison gives Ballard a sad smile as the detective walks over to them after examining Sheridan's body. Dean was unhand cuffed and taking care of some business behind one of the trees. "You doing all right," Sam asks.

"Not really. The death omen, Claire - what happens to her now," Ballard asks.

"She should be at rest now," Addison answers and Ballard nods.

"So, uh, what now, Officer," Dean asks, walking back over to them.

"Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say there's a good chance that we can get your cases dismissed," Ballard explains.

"You could take care of that for us," Sam disbelievingly asks.

"I hope so. But the St. Louis murder charges - that's another story. I can't help you. Unless, I just happened to turn my back and you walked away, I could tell them that the suspects escaped."

"Wait, are you sure?"

"Yeah, she's sure, Sam," Dean tells him.

"No, it's just you could lose your job over something like that."

"I just want you three out there, doing what you do best. Trust me. I'll sleep better at night. Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for all of you right now. Get out of here. I've got to radio this is in," Ballard replies.

"Hey, you wouldn't happened to know where my car is by chance," Dean asks and Addison rolls her eyes.

"It's at the impound yard on Robertson...don't even think about it."

"Don't worry. We'll just improvise. Kinda good at it," Addison reassures.

"Yeah. I've noticed," Ballard replies and smiles at them.

The three of them start walking down the dirt road and Dean rubs his wrists. He hits Addison's shoulder and she glares at him in annoyance. He shrugs, grinning, and she rolls her eyes, a light smile on her face. "Nice lady," Sam comments.

"Yeah, for a cop. Did she look familiar to either of you," Dean asks.

"Nope. Why you ask," Addison replies.

"I don't know. Anyway, are you hungry?"

"No," Sam answers.

"For some reason, I could really go for some pea soup," Dean explains and Addison shakes her head in disbelief. Sam's hand brushes against Addison's hand. They smile at each other.


	8. Crossroad Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, however, I do own the original characters.

The three of them were sitting in a small, yet crowded diner. Sam was busy looking up information on Dean while Addison went over a potential case and Dean was being usual Dean. "So much for a low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis and now you're officially in the Feds' database.” Sam tells them over the top of his laptop.

"Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something.” Dean comments and Addison shakes her head in disbelief.

"Except Dillinger ended up being gunned down by the FBI outside the Biograph Theater in Chicago," Addison explains.

"He was still was badass."

"You got me there." Addison takes a fry off of Dean's plate. "What do they got about me?"

"Nothing," Sam answers.

"Awesome."

"Well, what do they got on you," Dean asks.

Sam pauses. "I'm sure they just...haven't posted it yet."

Dean laughs. "What? No accessory? Nothing?"

"Shut up."

"Sounds like you're jealous," Addison amusedly says.

Sam shoots her an annoyed look. "No, I'm not."

"Uh huh," Dean laughs. He takes a swig of his beer. “All right. What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?"

Sam takes the stack of papers from Addison. "'Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home - a condominium he designed."

"Hmm. Build a high rise then jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call Animal Control?"

"Two days before jumped," Addison answers.

"Did he actually say 'black dog?'"

"'Vicious, wild, black dog' was exactly how he described it in the report."

"The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it," Sam continues. "In fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up, and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work. Two days later, he takes a swan dive."

"Do you think we're dealing with an actual black dog?"

"Maybe," Addison says, going through the papers. "My dad ran into one while visiting Cardiff in '80, before we moved here. But one medieval source says they're white, another says they're black."

"Some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens," Sam continues. "But anyway, what they're big, nasty—"

"And scary as hell."

Dean looks through through the papers. "Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg.” he amusedly says, holding up a picture of a large black dog. "Look at that one, huh?"

Sam glares at his brother. Addison stares in disbelief. "Dean, that's gross."

"What? They could."

* * *

The apartment they were in was in the same building that Sean Boyden had designed and jumped off of. It was a tall building. The apartment had hard wood floors with floor to ceiling windows. Sean's business partner, Stan, lived in the apartment. "So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right," Sam asks.

"That's right," Stan answers. "Now, one more time, this is for..."

"Architectural Digest," Addison answers. "We're doing a tribute to Mr. Boyden."

Stan laughs. "Funny to you," Dean asks.

"No," Stan replies, shaking his head. "It's just...a tribute. Yeah, see, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind, and he gets another tribute."

"Right," Sam replies. "Anyway idea why he'd do such a thing?"

"I have no clue. I mean, he lived a charmed life."

"How so?"

"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him...and he wasn't always that way either."

"No," Dean asks.

"You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago, he's working as a bartender at this play called Lloyd's, a complete dive."

"So, what changed," Addison asks.

Stan shrugs. "You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission and he starts designing - he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like the level of Van Gogh and Mozart. It..."

"What?"

"It's funny. The true geniuses — they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent...why? Why just throw it away?"

* * *

Sam watches through the side mirror as Addison stretches in the backseat. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to her. He also couldn't deny that he had a crush on her when he was teenager. But she only wanted to be friends and Sam respected that, reluctantly settling to be an admirer from afar. A tapping on his shoulder causes him to turn and see Addison leaning on the seat. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Sam smiles at her. "Why'd Patrick visit Cardiff?"

"He was thinking about moving there," Addison answers. "Except the whole evil dog in the neighborhood kinda made him rethink about living in Wales. That and he got in trouble for leaving me alone in a hotel room for an hour."

The driver's side door opens and they turn see Dean climbing in. He was holding a piece of paper. They stare at him with expectant looks. "The secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty-three, she kayaks, and they're real," Dean tells them, with a grin on his face.

"You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you," Sam asks.

Dean hands Sam the piece of paper. "Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog like. There's nineteen calls in all and uh..." He pulls off a post it note. "I don't know what this thing is."

Addison glances at the note and laughs. "It's her MySpace address, Dean," she amusedly tells him.

"Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that?" Sam joins in at laughing at Dean. "Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?"

* * *

After going through half of the list from animal control, the majority of which didn't have anything to do with their case, they pull up in front of a large house. They climb out of the Impala. "I swear, if this is another freaking Pomeranian barking at the neighbor's yard..." Dean mutters as they walk up to the front door. Addison rings the door bell and after a moment, a woman answers the door. "Afternoon, ma'am." He flashes his fake badge at her. "Animal control."

"Oh, someone already came yesterday," the woman replies.

"It's just a standard follow up," Addison says. "We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Perlman."

The woman sighs and motions for them to enter the house. All the furniture was nice and it was obvious that the owner made a lot of money. "The doctor, well, she...I don't know exactly when she'll be back. She left two days ago."

"Okay. And you are..." Sam trails off.

"I'm Miss Perlman's maid."

"So, where did the doctor go," Dean asks.

The maid shrugs. "I'm not sure. She just packed and went. She didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it finally?"

"Not yet," Addison replies. "You didn't happen to see the dog, did you?"

"Well, no," the maid confesses. "I never even heard it. I was almost starting to think the doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so..."

"You know, I read she was the chief surgeon at the hospital," Dean comments. "She's gotta be, what, forty-two, forty-three? That's pretty young for that job."

"Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position ten years ago."

"Huh," Sam says. "An overnight success, ten years ago."

"Yeah, we know a guy like that," Dean responds, taking a picture of the refrigerator. There were three women in picture, with the one in the middle being Sylvia Perlman. "Oh, look at this." He hands to picture of Sam. Addison looks at the back to find 'Lloyd's Bar. November 1996' on the back. "Lloyd's Bar."

* * *

Lloyd's Bar was a small bar in the middle of nowhere. Addison couldn't think of a reason anyone could drive out to the middle of nowhere to go to the bar. The road was a mixture of gravel and dirt. Yellow flowers outlined a crossroads. “Hey." Dean says, motioning to the flowers.

"Yeah," Sam replies.

"That's weird."

"Someone probably planted them," Addison softly says.

"In the middle of all these weeds," Sam disbelievingly asks.

"These are, uh, what do you call 'em, Ads," Dean asks her.

"Yarrow flowers," Addison answers. "People use them in summoning rituals."

"So, two people became sudden successes about ten years ago, right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's."

"Where there just happens to be a crossroads," Sam realizes. "You think?"

"It fits," Addison tells him.

Dean shrugs. "Let's find out." He walks to the center of the crossroads. "This seem about dead center to you?"

Sam glances at Addison as Dean walks over to the Impala. She looked slightly pale. "You okay, Ads?"

Addison tensely smiles at him. "I'm fine."

Dean walks back over and digs a small hole. The shovel hits something metal. "Yahtzee," he says, kneeling down. The object was a small metal box. He opens it and inside were bones and a jar of dirt.

"I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt," Sam says, taking the jar out. He motions to the bone. "And a black cat bone."

"That's serious spell work. I mean, that's deep south hoodoo stuff."

"Used to summon a demon."

Addison shakes her head. "These people were making deals with a demon."

Dean scoffs. "Yeah, cause that always ends good."

"They're seeing dogs, alright," Sam says. "But not black dogs. They're seeing hellhounds — demonic pit bulls."

"Whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting. And that doctor lady, wherever she's running, she ain't running fast enough."

"So, it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, 'selling your soul at the crossroads' kind of deal?"

"Um, that's not a legend, Sam," Addison tells him. "You know his music."

A confused look appears on Sam's face. Dean stares at him in disbelief for a moment. "You don't know Robert Johnson songs? Sam, theres occult references all over his lyrics. I mean, 'Crossroads Blues', 'Me and the Devil Blues', 'Hellhound on My Trail?'" The confused look doesn't leave Sam's face. "Story goes that he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating and muttering about big, evil dogs."

"And now it's happening all over again."

"Yeah."

"We've got to find out if anyone else struck any bargains around here."

"Great. So, we've got to clean up these people's mess for them? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play  _Let's Make a Deal_."

"So, what, we should just leave them to die?"

"Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save them?"

Addison takes the box out of Dean's hand. She opens it and takes a small black and white picture out. An African-American man was in the photo. "This guy summoned the demon. Let's track him down. We'll start there.” she says, walking towards the bar.

_The church was empty. She never thought that she'd be spending her father's final day alive in a church. Addison sits down next to Patrick, who was staring at picture of him and a young red headed woman. "At least you and Mom will be together in heaven.” Addison softly says, trying to hold back the tears._

_Patrick shakes his head and closes the old Bible, the same one that his mother had always used. "Your mom isn't in heaven, Ads.” he sadly tells her._

_Addison had never seen her father cry before. “Dad—"_

_"Your mom, she, uh, she made a deal with a crossroads demon."_

_"I thought Mom died in a car accident."_

_Patrick shakes his head. "That's just what I told you and everyone else."_

_"Why did you lie to me?"_

_"Because she asked me not to tell you the truth." Patrick takes a deep breath. "Your mom...she didn't have the best childhood growing up. Her parents were abusive; verbal, physically. Then one day, when she was sixteen, Jules met a man with red eyes and he told her that he could make everything better. Jules...she found something out and was scared of what her parents would do if they found out._

_"She told me about it a few days before the hellhounds came. I told Jules that I'd find a way to save her, but she didn't want to be saved. I hated that she wouldn't let me help, but Jules was gonna take responsibility. She wanted us to spend time together as a family, so we went on holiday. We had a final family holiday and did everything she wanted. Jules loved you so much, Ads. She'd be so proud of you. I'm proud of you."_

_"Why didn't you tell me this before?"_

_"I wanted to protect you, Ads.” Addison looks away, trying to hold back her own tears. Patrick pulls her against his chest. He rubs her back and whispers comforting words, all while ignoring his own tears and heartbreak._

The apartment building was an old building that had been converted into loft apartments. It hadn't been hard for Addison to find out the identity of the man in the photo or where he lived. "Addison." She glances over her shoulder. Sam and Dean were behind her. "What's this guy's name again?"

"George Darrow.” Addison answers, continuing up the stairs. "He's a regular at Lloyd's."

"This place probably ain't up next on  _MTV Cribs_ , is it," Dean amusedly asks. Addison rolls her eyes.

Sam chuckles. "Yeah. So, whatever kind of deal he made—"

"It wasn't for cash. Ah, who knows? Maybe his place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis." Sam shakes his head. "I'm just saying. This guy's got one epic bill come due. I hope, at least, he asked for something fun."

Addison stops in front of an apartment door. A black line was visible under the door. She frowns and kneels down. "Check this out," she says, touching the line.

"What is that, pepper?"

The door opens and Addison looks up to see an older version of the man in the picture. He had graying hair. "Who the hell are you?"

"George Darrow," Addison asks, standing up.

"I'm not buying anything."

George starts to close the door, but Dean stops him. "Looks like you went for the wrong shaker there," he says. George shoots him a confused look. "Usually when you want to keep something evil out, you go for the salt."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Addison takes the picture out of her hoodie pocket and holds it up for George to see. "What about this? Has that hellhound paid you a visit yet?"

"Look, we wanna help," Sam tells him. "Please, just five minutes." George stares at them for a second, then motions for them to follow him. Sam closes the door behind them. George's apartment was filled with paintings. A large one was on an easel. "So, what is that stuff out front?"

"Goofer dust." The boys exchange a look. Addison sighs. "Oh, you three think you know something about something, but not goofer dust?"

George tosses a bag to Addison. She opens it and sees more of the black powder inside it. She hands it to Dean. "Well, we know a little about a lot of things," Dean tells him. "Just enough to make us dangerous."

"What is it," Sam asks.

"Hoodoo. My grandma taught me — keeps out demons," George explains.

"Demons we know," Dean replies.

"Well, then, keep it. Maybe it'll do you some good. Four minutes left."

"Mr. Darrow, we know you're in trouble," Sam says.

"Yeah, that you got yourself into," Dean says under his breath.

Sam glares at him, then turns back to George. "But it's not hopeless, all right? There's gotta be something we can do."

"Listen, I get that you three wanna help. But sometimes, a person makes their bed, and they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one that called that demon in the first place."

"Why'd you do it," Addison asks.

"I was weak. I mean, who don't wanna be great. Who don't want their life to mean something? I just — I just never thought about the price."

"Was it worth it," Dean asks, smirking at George.

"Hell, no. Course, I asked for talent. Should've gone for fame. I'm still broke...and lonely. Just now, I've got this pile of paintings nobody wants," George tells them, motioning to the paintings. "That wasn't the worst."

"Go on," Sam encourages.

"The demon didn't leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week, just chatting, making more deals. I tried to warn folks, but who's gonna listen to an old drunk?"

"How many others are there?"

"This architect, a doctor lady — I kept up with them. They've been in the papers. Least they got famous."

"Who else, George," Dean asks. "Come on, think."

"One more. Nice guy too. Hudson — Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. He's done for."

Sam shakes his head. "No. No, there's gotta be a way."

"You don't get it. I don't want a way."

"Look, you don’t—"

"I called that thing! I brought it on myself! I brought it on them! I'm going to Hell one way or another. All I want is to finish my last painting — day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold 'em off till then. Buy a little time. Okay, it's time you went. Go help somebody that wants help."

"You can't just—"

"Get out! I've got work to do."

"You don't really wanna die."

"I don't," George counters, shaking his head. "I'm tired."

Addison gives George a sad smile and walks out of his apartment behind Dean and Sam. "So, what do we do know," Sam asks. Dean shrugs in response.

"We go find Evan Hudson and see if he wants any help," Addison tells him, then jogs down the stairs.

Sam looks at Dean, a confused look on his face. "Hey, I stopped trying to figure out Addison's moods years ago," Dean replies.

* * *

Evan Hudson lived in the suburbs. His was like many of the McMansions in the subdivision, with a few small features separating it from the other houses on his street. Addison, Sam, and Dean walk up to the front. Addison knocks on the door. A man with light blonde hair opens the door. "Yes?"

"Evan Hudson?” Sam asks.

"Yeah."

"You ever been to a bar called Lloyd’s." Dean asks. "It would've been about ten years ago." Evan slams the door their faces. "Come on, we're not demons!"

"Way to go, Dean.” Addison comments. Dean kicks down the front door in response. They run into the house and up the stairs. Evan sees them and runs into one of the room. Dean starts to kick the door, but Addison quickly moves in front of him. She opens the door and walks into a home office. "Evan?"

Evan steps out from the side. "Please! Don't hurt me."

"Evan, we just want to help you."

"We know all about the genius deal you made," Dean coldly says. Addison glares at him.

"What? How?

"Doesn't matter," Sam tells him. "All that matters is we're trying to stop it."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Well, you don't, but you're kind of running low on options there, buddy boy," Dean says.

"Can you stop it?"

"We don't know," Addison honestly says, taking a cautious step forward. "But we're going to try."

"I don't wanna die."

"Of course you don't," Dean scoffs. "Not now."

"Dean," Addison snaps, glaring at him.

"What'd you ask for, anyway, huh? Never need Viagra, bowl a perfect game, what?"

"My wife," Evan softly answers.

Dean chuckles. "Right, getting the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to Hell for."

"Dean, stop," Sam angrily says.

"No. He's right," Even replies. "I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm. That woman, or whatever she was, at the bar - she said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but...I don't know. I was desperate."

"Desperate?"

Evan takes a deep breath. "Julie was dying."

Addison and Sam glance at Dean. "You did it save her," Dean asks.

"She had cancer, they had stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice. They kept saying, 'Matter of days.' So, yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot."

"Did you ever think about her in all this?"

"I did this for her!"

"You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself, so you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what, she's gonna have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?"

"Okay, that's enough.” Sam says. "Evan, sit tight, alright? We're gonna figure this out."

The three of them walk out. Addison closes the door behind them, then turns to Dean. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be," Dean replies. "Hey, I got a idea." He takes out the bag of goofer dust and hands it to Sam. "You guys throw George's hoodoo at that hellhound. Keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent."

"Yeah, but how much time," Sam asks.

"I don't know. A while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from Hell and into the sunshine."

"No. No way."

"You're not allowed to say no, Sammy. Not unless you've got a better idea."

"You know what, Dean," Addison begins. "You're not summoning the demon because ever since we figured out it was a demon, you've been on edge." Dean shakes his head and starts to walk away. "This entire time you've been thinking that John made a deal for you."

"It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul."

"I think I hear it!” Evan yells. "It's outside!"

"Just keep him alive, okay?"

“Dean!" Sam shouts as Dean walks away. Dean ignores him and continues. Addison rolls her eyes and walks back into the office. Sam reluctantly follows her. He opens the bag and starts pouring it on the floor in a circle.

"What is that stuff?” Evan asks.

"Goofer dust."

"Are you serious?"

Addison sighs. "Evan, you can believe us or not. But stay inside the circle, okay?" Evan nods. She watches as Sam finishes the circle and stands next to Addison. "Now we wait."

Evan looks at the door, a scared look on his face. "What," Sam asks.

"You hear that," Evan asks.

"No. Where's it coming from," Addison asks.

"Right outside the door." The door rattles. Sam and Addison exchange a look, then join Evan in the circle.

"Just don't move, alright," Sam tells him. "Stay where you are." The door shakes even more. Addison grabs Sam's arm. She was worried and judging by the look on Sam's face, he was just was worried. The door suddenly stops shaking. "Do you still hear it?"

"No. Is it over?" Sam shrugs. Addison loosens her grip. Evan turns as the air vent flies off the wall. "It's here!"

"Stay in the circle," Addison tells Evan. Claw marks appear just outside the circle.

"Come on, Dean.” Sam softly says. A gust of wind blows in the room causing the circle to break. "The circle's broken, come on!" They run out of the room. Addison falls on the ground, screaming. "Ads!"

"Go!" Tears streamed down her face. The back of her jeans was ripped. Blood was pooling on the floor. She had never felt so much physical pain before. She could feel a hot breath on the back of her neck. Addison screams when the invisible claws touch her shoulder. Suddenly, the breath and claws are gone.

Sam and Evan emerge from the closet they were hiding in. "Addison!" Sam runs over to her. He pulls her into his lap and she cries out in pain.

"I'll call 911 and get some towels.” Evan says before running off.

Sam brushes hair out of her face. Addison was pale from blood loss and pain. "You can't die on me, Addison.” he whispers. He tightly holds her to his chest. He barely hears the faint whisper of his name.

* * *

The hospital room was quiet except for the beeping coming from a machine. Addison was sleeping in the bed, her leg that had been structured was propped up on a pillow. Her shoulder had needed also needed stitches and was bandaged. Sam sat on one side of the bed while Dean sat on the other side. "Demons lie all the time, right?” Sam quietly asks, finally tearing his gaze from Addison. "Maybe she was lying."

"Come on. Is that really what you think?” Dean replies. "How could he do it?"

"He did it for you."

"Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? You know, the thought of him, wherever he is right now - he spent his whole life chasing that yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy, you know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. Not this."

"How many people do you think Dad saved, total?"

"That's not the point, Sam."

"Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy, Dean. Now, we're still here, man. So, we've gotta keep going. For him.” Sam says. He pauses as another thought comes to the front of his mind. "Hey, Dean?"

Dean was staring at Addison. He looks at his brother. "Yeah?"

"When you were trapping that demon, you weren't...I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?” Sam asks and Dean looks away. Sam stares at him, shocked.

"I'm going to go get some coffee.” Dean announces and walks out of the room, without looking at Sam.

"Hey." Sam looks to see Addison tiredly staring at him. "The main thing is that he didn't do it, Sam," Addison softly says.

"But Dean still thought about it.” Sam counters.

"He's still grieving." Addison takes a deep breath. "Right before my dad died...he told me that my mom made a deal. She didn't die in a car accident. My mom made a deal. Her parents treated her horribly...and she couldn't take it anymore. She wouldn't let Dad look for a way out of it. She just wanted to spend time with me and my dad."

Sam leans forward and tightly hugs Addison. He kisses the side of her head, breathing in the apple scent that came from her shampoo. "I'm so sorry, Ads." He lets her go and starts to sit back down in the chair, but she pats the bed.

"I'm cold."

"I'll go get another blanket."

Addison stares at him. Then he sees it. The fear that had made it's way to the surface. Sam kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed. Wincing, she curls into his side. He wraps an arm around her shoulders. And it doesn't take long for her to fall back asleep. Sam sighs as he rests his cheek against the top of her head. He couldn't help that his feelings for her were changing.


	9. Croatoan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did.

Addison winces as Sam slowly pulls the bandage off to check her stitches. Only when she put any pressure on her right leg, did she feel pain from hellhound scratches. Four long scratches were on her calf. They had been deep, but not deep enough to cause any damage to the muscle. Her leg was slowly healing.  

And while she had injuries before, never had Addison felt more useless. While her leg was broken, she still helped out as best she could, which mostly meant research or talking with people. The amount of pain she was in now, meant she mostly sat around in the motel room. And it didn’t help that the pain killers she had been prescribed made her kind of loopy. 

“It doesn’t look infected.” Sam says, grabbing the bottle of peroxide off the nightstand. She hisses when the peroxide touches her leg. Addison buries her face in the pillow she holding to hide her tears. He glances up at her. “Ads, you were attacked by a hellhound and survived. It’s okay to cry.” 

“I’m not crying.” Addison replies, her voice muffled. “It’s just allergies.” Sam laughs. A pain erupts in his head. He knocks over the peroxide causing it to spill over her leg. “What the fuck, Sam!” He grabs his forehead. She looks up to see him fall onto the floor between the beds. “Sam!” Ignoring the pain, Addison hobbles over and kneels down next to him. 

She places her hands on top of his. Her tears land on his face. Sam’s eyes snap open. Addison lets out a relived breath. The motel door opens and she looks up to see Dean with a six pack under his arm.

* * *

“Continue on OR-224 west.” Sam’s phone says and Addison leans over the seat to look over Sam’s shoulder. His vision had been disturbing to all of them. She knew it bothered her, but she always trusted Dean to do the right thing.

“There are only two towns in the U.S. named River Grove,” Sam comments and Addison glances at Dean.

“How come you’re so sure it’s the one in Oregon,” Dean asks him.

“There was a picture -- Crater Lake.”

“What else did you see,” Addison asks Sam and he lets out a sigh.

“I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair." 

“And I ventilated him,” Dean asks, taking his gaze off the dark road for a second.

“Yeah. You thought there was something inside him.”

“A demon? Was he possessed?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow. So, was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise him?”

“No. Nothing. You just plugged him, and that’s it.” 

“Well, I’m sure I had a good reason." 

“I sure hope so.”

“What does that mean,” Dean asks and a silence falls over the three of them when Sam doesn’t answer. “Sam, I’m not gonna waste an innocent man.” Addison adverts her gaze. “I wouldn’t!”

“I never said you would,” Sam shouts back. 

“Fine.”

“Fine.” 

“You know, you two fight married couple,” Addison says, trying to break the tension. Neither of them respond. She sighs and leans back against the seat.

* * *

They pull into River Grove, Oregon and Addison looks around. Stores were on either side of the street, with a covered sidewalk on one side. “It’s small town America, with the whole possibility of demonic activity,” Addison amusedly says 

“He was there,” Sam says, pointing to a man who was sitting on a porch cleaning a gun. 

Dean parks the car and the three of them get out of the Impala. Addison leans on her newly acquired cane as they walk over to the man. “Morning,” Dean greets.

“Morning. Can I help you,” the man asks them and Dean pulls out his fake id. 

“Yeah. Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Maria Garcia -- U.S. Marshals.”

“What’s this about?”

“We’re looking for someone.”

“A young man, early twenties. He’d have a thin scar right below his hairline,” Sam tells him.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” Addison answers and he looks at her. “We’re looking for someone and are hoping that this young man could give us information.”

“Yeah, he’s not in any kind of trouble or anything. Well, not yet,” Dean says in agreement. “I think maybe you know who he is, Master Sergeant. My dad was in the Corps. He was a corporal." 

“What company,” Sarge asks him.

“Echo two-one.”

“So, can you help us,” Sam asks and Addison gives Sarge a bright smile. 

“Duane Tanner’s got a scar like that. But I know him -- good kid, keeps his nose clean,” Sarge answers.

“No, I’m sure he does. You know where he lives,” Dean replies.

“With his family, up on Aspen Way.”

“Thank you,” Addison tells him and they head back across the street where Dean had parked the Impala.

“Hey,” Sam calls and Addison and Dean turn around to see him standing by a telephone pole, pointing to a word craved into the pole. They walk over to him.

“‘Croatoan,’” Dean asks. 

“Croatoan was the only word left by the colonists living in Roanoke in the late sixteenth century. The second time the English tried to settle there is the most famous one. One of the colonists, John White, left in 1587 and when he returned from England in 1590 the entire colony was no longer there,” Addison explains.

“And there were theories -- Indian raid, disease. But nobody knows what really happened,” Sam continues. Dean looks between them.

“You don’t think that’s what’s going on here,” Dean asks and Addison shakes her head. 

“It could be,” Sam counters and Addison shakes her head again. 

“Croatoan was the name of another island. The most common theory, Sam, is that the colonists went to another island, which is modern day Hatteras Island and that because of bad weather kept White from going south so he just returned to England,” Addison retorts and gives Sam a smug look.

“There is no proof that actually happened and knowing what we know, Addison, anything could be possible.”

Addison starts to say something else, but Dean steps in between them. “Both of you put the claws back in. All of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so...”

“We should get help. Bobby? Ellen, maybe,” Sam replies and Addison lets the argument drop for the time being. 

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Dean replies and pulls out his phone. “I don’t have a signal.”

Addison rolls her eyes and pulls her phone out. “See, this is why you should go with T-Mobile...I don’t have any bars either.” 

Dean walks over to a pay phone and grabs the receiver, before slamming it back down. “Line’s dead. I’ll tell you one thing -- if I was gonna massacre a town, that’d be my first step.”

* * *

Addison holds in the groan of pain as the three of them walk up to a small yellow house. Random objects, including a few chairs, were on the front porch. Sam knocks on a door and a young man opens the door. “Yeah?” 

Dean holds up his fake badge. “Hi. We’re looking for Duane Tanner. He lives here, right?”

“He’s my brother.”

“Can we talk to him?”

“He’s not here right now." 

“Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roseland Lake.”

“Your parents home,” Sam asks him. 

“Yeah, they’re inside.”

“Jake, who is it,” someone from inside the house shouts and a middle aged man walks over to the door, standing behind Jake. 

“Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir. We’re looking for your son, Duane,” Dean tells him. 

“Why, he’s not in trouble, is he?” 

“No, we just need to ask him a couple routine questions, that’s all.”

“When’s he due back from his trip,” Sam asks. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Well, maybe your wife knows.” 

“No, I don’t know. She’s not here right now.”

“But you son just said she was,” Addison informs him, a slight frown on her face. They look at her and she feels a creepy vibe from them.

“Did I,” Jake asks her and Addison nods.

“She’s getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, is there a number where he can get a hold of you,” Mr. Tanner asks them. 

“Oh, no, we’ll just check in with you later,” Dean replies and they walk down the steps as the Tanners go back to their business. “That was kind of creepy, right? A little too Stepford?”

“I don’t know...neither of them looked like Nicole Kidman or Matthew Broderick,” Addison comments and both Sam and Dean look at her, before turning to make their way to the back of the hose. “Dean can make all the jokes he wants to, but the moment I do, it’s a big no no.” 

When Addison catches up to them, she finds Mr. Tanner lying on the floor of the kitchen. A woman, Mrs. Tanner, was tied to a chair. There were cuts on her arms and she was obvious the woman had been crying. Addison comfortingly smiles at Mrs. Tanner. “It’s going to be okay.” 

* * *

They pull up the small medical clinic. Addison stands to the side as Sam helps Beverly Tanner out of the Impala before they enter the clinic. “Hello? Hello, we need a doctor here,” Sam shouts through out the empty waiting room. 

A blonde nurse enters the room. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?”

“She was attacked,” Addison answers. 

“Dr. Lee,” the nurse yells and an older blonde woman wearing a lab coat walks into the room. 

“Bring her in,” Dr. Lee tells them and Addison and Sam take Beverly into the small office. Beverly takes a seat on the table as Dr. Lee and Dean, carrying Mr. Tanner’s body, walks into the room. Dean sits the body on the ground and Beverly starts explaining what had happened as Dr. Lee treats her injury. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son, Jake?” 

“They beat me...tied me up,” Beverly tells them.

“I don’t believe it,” the nurse comments.

“Pam,” Dr. Lee scolds and turns back to Beverly. “Beverly, do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?”

“No, of course not,” Beverly replies and starts to cry, causing Addison to give the woman a sad look. “I don’t know why. One minute, they were my husband and my son. And the next...they had the devil in them.”

Dean slips his arm around Addison’s waist and pulls her out of the exam room with Sam following them. “These guys are whacked out of their gourds.”

“What do you think? Multiple demons? Mass possession,” Sam asks and Addison looks back at the examination room. 

“If it is a possession, there could be more. God knows how many. It could be like a fucking Shriner Convention.”

“Great.”

“Course, that’s one way to wipe out a town. You take it from the inside.” 

“But there weren’t any of the usual signs that we normally associate with demons,” Addison counters and tears her gaze from the door.

“Well, whatever. I mean, something turned him into a monster. And Sam, if you would have taken out the other one, there’d be one less to worry about,” Dean replies.

“I’m sorry, all right? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid,” Sam responds. 

“No, it was an ‘it.’ Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

Dr. Lee exits the examination room and walks over to them. “How is she doing,” Addison asks the doctor. 

“Terrible. What the hell happened out there,” Dr. Lee asks them.

“We don’t know,” Dean tells her.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” 

“We didn’t have a choice.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county sheriff. I need the coroner.” 

“None of the phones are working,” Addison says and Dr. Lee nods.

“I know, I tried. Tell me you’ve got a police radio in the car.”

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam tells Dr. Lee, who lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“I don’t understand what is happening.” 

“How far is it to the next town,” Dean asks.

“It’s about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“All right, I’m gonna go down there and see if we can find some help. My partners will stick around -- keep you guys safe,” Dean tells the doctor. 

“Safe from what,” the doctor asks them.

The three of them exchange a look. “We’ll get back to you on that,” Dean answers, before walking out of the clinic.

* * *

Addison sits in a chair in the exam room. She reaches down and rubs her calf. Sam shoots her a concerned look, but she smiles back at him. He turns back to staring at Mr. Tanner’s body, which was on the table. Dr. Lee was examining something in a microscope. “Huh.”

“What,” Addison asks.

“His lymphocyte percentage is pretty high. His body was fighting off a viral infection.”

“Really,” Sam disbelievingly asks. “What kind of virus?”

“Can’t say for sure.”

“Could the virus have him made act like that,” Addison asks. 

“None that I’ve ever heard of. I mean, some can cause dementia, but not that kind of violence. And besides, I’ve never heard of one that did this to the blood.”

“Did what,” Sam asks. 

“There’s this weird residue. If I didn’t know better...I’d say it was sulfur.”

“Sulfur.” 

“I’m gonna go get Beverly. See if she knows anything.” 

Addison waits until the door is closed. “The last thing we need is to be in a real life _28 Days Later_.”

“Are you okay,” Sam asks, concern laced in his voice.

“I’m fine, Sam. Don’t worry about me.” 

The door opens and they watch as Dr. Lee walks in with Beverly. “I don’t understand,” Beverly says. “Are you saying my husband and Jake had a disease?” 

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Dr. Lee responds. “Now, during the attack, do you remember...did you have any direct contact with their blood." 

“Oh my God. You don’t think I’ve got this virus, do you?”

“Beverly, I don’t know what to think. But with your permission, we’ll take a blood sample.” 

Beverly stands there for a moment, smiling. Then she changes. She shoves Dr. Lee to the floor. Addison stands up and Beverly pushes her down. She grabs a scalpel off a tray and runs towards Sam. But he knocks Beverly out with a nearby oxygen tank before she can do anything else.

* * *

Addison watches as Pam paces around the exam room. Sam was standing next to her. Dr. Lee walks into the exam room and hands Addison a bottle of pain pills, ones that she guaranteed wouldn’t make her loopy. “What if we all have it,” Pam nervously blurts out. “What if we all go crazy?”

“We’ve gotta stay calm,” Dr. Lee says. “All we can do is wait. The Marshal’s bringing help.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve gotta go.”

Pam runs out the room and the three of them go after her. “Pam,” Addison calls out. 

“No, you don’t understand. My boyfriend’s out there. I gotta make sure he’s okay.” 

“Wait, wait,” Sam tells her. “Please. I know you’re upset, alright? But it’s safe if you stay here for now. Help is coming.” A loud engine signals the arrival of the Impala. “There they are.”

Pounding comes from the other side of the door. “Ads, Sammy, open up,” Dean shouts. 

Addison unlocks the door, allowing Dean and the man they had met earlier to enter. “Did you find a phone?” 

“Roadblock,” Dean replies and turns to the Sergeant. “We’re gonna have a word. Doc’s inside.”  

Sam waits until the Sergeant is no longer in hearing distance and turns to them. “What’s going on out there?”

“Man, I don’t know. I feel like Chuck Heston in _The Omega Man_. Sarge was the only sane person we could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?”

“Dr. Lee thinks it might be a virus,” Addison tells him. 

“Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she’s right,” Sam replies. 

“Is that so?” 

“Yeah. And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The virus leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“A demonic virus,” Dean disbelievingly asks. 

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare. At least that explains why I’ve been having visions.”

“More like a biblical plague,” Addison says. 

“Yeah. You don’t know how right you are. I’ve been pouring through Dad’s journal. I found something about the Roanoke colony.” 

“And,” Dean asks.

“Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon’s name -- sometimes known as Dever or sometimes Reshef. A demon of plague and pestilence,” Sam explains and Addison frowns.

“Well, that’s terrific. Why here? Why now,” Dean asks him and Sam shrugs. 

“I have no idea. But…who knows how far this thing can spread? We’ve gotta get out of here, we’ve gotta warn people.” 

Addison starts to say something, but the Sergeant yells to them. “They’ve got one! In here!”

“What do you mean,” Dean asks as they walk into the doctor’s office. 

“The wife. She’s infected,” Sam answers.

“We’ve gotta take care of this. We can’t just leave her in there. My neighbors -- they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she’ll get,” the Sergeant explains to them, standing outside the room where Beverly was, aiming his gun at the door. 

“You’re gonna kill Beverly Tanner,” Pam asks them and Sam turns to the doctor.

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this,” Sam asks.

“Can you cure this,” Addison asks the doctor. 

“For God’s sake, I don’t even know what ‘it’ is.” Dr. Lee replies.

“I told you, it’s a matter of time before she breaks through.” Sergeant tells them and Addison looks at Dean.

“Just leave her there! You can’t shoot her like an animal.” Pam yells at them. 

“Sam.” Dean says and Addison watches as the two of them walk over to the utility closet. The Sergeant nods and opens the door. 

“Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it’s them! They locked me in here, they tried to kill me! They’re infected, not me! Please, Mark! You’ve known me all your life! Please,” Beverly begs and Addison looks away.

“You’re sure she’s one of them,” Addison hears Dean asks.

“Yeah,” Sam answers and a gun shot rings throughout the clinic.

* * *

Addison winces as she sits down a couple of feet away from where Dean and Sam were cleaning weapons. Things were tense since Dean had shot Beverly. Everyone was off doing their own thing, lost in their thoughts. She takes out the bottle of pills Dr. Lee had given her. “Weren’t you bitching about how your pain meds made you loopy,” Dean asks. 

“These are different ones,” Addison tells him. “Dr. Lee gave them to me. She said they wouldn’t make me loopy.”

“Huh.” 

“What?” 

“You’re always talking about how you’re one of the guys, but you can’t handle a little pain.” 

Addison glares at Dean and shoves the bottle back into her pocket. “Dean,” Sam says, giving his older brother an disapproving looking. 

Dean starts to reply but a scream echoes throughout the clinic. They quickly make their way over the doctor’s office where Dr. Lee, Pam and the Sergeant already are. “Why are we staying here? Please, let’s just go,” Pam begs. 

“No, we can’t, cause those things are everywhere,” Dean tells the young nurse. 

“Oh, God,” Pam sobs and Dr. Lee comforts her as Sam makes his over to them.

“She’s right about one thing. We can’t stay here. We’ve gotta get out of here -- get to the Roadhouse, somewhere. Let people know what’s coming,” Sam tells them.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. _Night of the Living Dead_ didn’t exactly end pretty,” Dean replies. 

“I’m not sure we’ve got a choice. Lots of folks up here are good with rifles. Even with all your hard work, we’re easy targets. So, unless you’ve got some explosives,” the Sergeant says and Addison smirks noticing the bottles on a top shelf.

“We could make some,” Addison comments, motioning to the shelf. 

“Hey, let me in! Let me in, please,” someone shouts from the front entrance and they quickly walk into the waiting room. 

“It’s Duane Tanner,” the Sergeant informs them, opening the door and letting the young man in. 

“Oh, thank God.”

“Duane, you okay?” 

“That’s the guy that I, uh…” Dean quietly asks, making a motion across his throat.

“Yeah,” Sam answers and Addison lets out a sigh.

“Who else is in here,” Duane asks them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, chief. Hey, Doc, give Duane a good once over, would you,” Dean asks, leading Duane into the doctor’s office, with the rest of them following him and Dr. Lee calling for Pam. 

“Who are you?”

“Never mind who I am. Doc?”

“Yeah, okay,” Dr. Lee replies as Pam enters the room.

“Duane, where you been,” the Sergeant asks him.

“I was on a fishing trip up by Roseland. I came back this afternoon. I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know. They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I’ve been hiding in the woods ever since.  Has anybody seen my mom and dad,” Duane explains. 

“Awkward,” Dean quietly comments and Addison hits him on the stomach.

“You’re bleeding,” Dr. Lee states, pointing to the cut on Duane’s leg.

“Where’d you get that,” Dean asks.

“I was running. I must’ve tripped,” Duane answers. 

“Tie him up. There’s rope in there,” Dean tells the Sergeant. 

“Wait--” 

“Sit down,” Dean yells at Duane, raising his gun. 

“Sorry, Duane, he’s right. We’ve gotta be careful,” the Sergeant tells the young man.

“Careful? About what,” Duane asks them. 

“Did anybody bleed on you,” Addison asks him, sending a look to Dean.

“No, what the hell! No,” Duane shouts as the Sergeant grabs some rope.

“Doc, any way to know for sure? Any tests,” Sam softly asks the doctor.  

“It took three hours for the virus to incubate. Sulfur didn’t appear in the blood until then, so…no, there’d be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane…turns,” Dr. Lee answers.

“I’ve gotta talk to you two. Now,” Sam tells Addison and Dean. They walk out of the room as the Sergeant gets Duane to sit down in a chair and enter another one. “This is my vision. It’s happening.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Dean deadpans and Addison lets out a sigh. 

“You can’t kill him, all right? Not yet. We don’t know if he’s infected or not.” 

“He just showed up out of nowhere, Sam, with a cut on his leg and we know that his entire family was infected,” Addison comments and Sam stares at her, causing her to shrug. “It’s the truth.”

“Then we should keep him tied up and we should wait and see,” Sam counters. 

“For what? For him to Hulk out? Infect somebody else? No, thanks, can’t take that chance,” Dean says and starts to leave, but Sam stops him. “Look, man, I’m not happy about this, okay? But it’s a tough job and you know that.” 

“It’s supposed to be tough, Dean! We’re supposed to struggle with this, that’s the whole point!”

“What does that buy us?”

“A clear conscience for one.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“What the hell has happened to you?”

“You might kill an innocent man and you don’t even care? You don’t act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You’re acting like one of those things out there." 

“Sam,” Addison disbelievingly says as Dean walks out of the room they were in, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Hey,” Sam shouts, banging on the door. “Open the damn door. Dean! Don’t do it, Dean! Don’t!”

“Sam, stop it!” 

“He’s going to kill him and you don’t even care either.”

“You don’t know that, Sam! So, just stop it and trust that Dean will do the right thing,” Addison sternly tells him and sits down on a rolling stool.

* * *

Things are quiet between the three of them as they make the explosives when Dr. Lee enters the room they were in. “It’s been over four hours. Duane’s blood is still clean. I don’t think he’s infected. I’d like to untie him, if that’s all right." 

Sam looks at Addison and Dean, before turning to Dr. Lee. “Sure yeah.” He waits for Dr. Lee to leave and turns to Dean. “You know I’m gonna ask you why.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean replies. 

“So, why? Why didn’t you do it?”

“We need more alcohol,” Dean states and Addison watches as Sam walks out of the room, before turning to Dean.

“It doesn’t matter why you didn’t do it, just that you made what you consider a good decision,” Addison softly says. A door slamming shut causes them to turn. The door leading to the supply closet was closed. Dean and the Sergeant run over to the door, kicking it open. Dean shoots several times and Addison makes her way over there as the Sergeant stops Dean from helping Sam up, who was bleeding from a cut on his chest, noticing Pam lying on the floor dead.

“She bled on him. He’s got the virus,” the Sergeant states and Addison looks between Dean and Sam.

* * *

Addison, Dean, the Sergeant, Dr. Lee, Duane and Sam, who was sitting on the exam table, were in an exam room. “Doctor, check his wound again, would you,” Dean asks and the Dr. Lee just stands there. “Doctor!”

“What does she need to examine it for? You saw what happened,” the Sergeant states. 

“Did her blood actually enter your wound,” Dr. Lee asks Sam. 

“Come on, of course it did!”

“We don’t actually know that,” Addison comments.

“We can’t take a chance.” Duane counters.

“You know what we have to do.” the Sergeant tells Dean.

“Nobody is shooting my brother.” Dean coldly replies.

“He’s not gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.” Duane retorts.

“Nobody’s shooting anybody.”

“You were gonna shoot me!”

“You don’t shut your pie hole, I still might!” 

“Dean, they’re right. I’m infected. Just give me the gun and I’ll do it myself,” Sam interrupts and Addison stares at him. 

“Forget it." 

“Dean, I’m not gonna become one of those things.”

“Sam, we still have time,” Addison tells him and the Sergeant turns to her. 

“Time for what? Look, I understand that he’s your friend and I’m sorry. I am. But I’ve gotta take care of this,” the Sergeant says, pulling out his gun.

“I’m gonna say this one time. You make a move on him, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground, you understand me? Do I make myself clear,” Dean angrily tells the Sergeant.

“Dean,” Sam says and is ignored.

“Then what are we supposed to do,” the Sergeant asks and Dean grabs Addison’s hand, placing the Impala’s keys in her fist.

“Get the hell outta here, that’s what. You’ve got the explosives, there’s an arsenal in there, you three go with her. You’ve got enough firepower to handle anything now.”

“No,” Addison replies, shaking her head. “I’m not leaving without either of you.” 

“Yes, you are. You are going to get in my car, lead these people to safety, and then go to the Roadhouse or to Bobby’s and tell them what happened. You are going to walk out that door and not come back for me or for Sam.”

“No.” 

“Addison, go.” Sam tells her.

“No.”

Dean shoves Addison out of the room and locks the door. She stares at his back through the window, before turning and making her way over to the Sergeant. She clears her throat and hands him the keys. “There’s an arsenal in the trunk. You guys should be able to make out,” Addison softly says. 

“You should come with us,” the Sergeant replies.

Addison glances at the door and shakes her head. “I’m fine right here.” The Sergeant, Duane, and Dr. Lee walk out of the clinic. She takes a seat in the waiting room and leans back.Addison frowns when she sees the Sergeant walk back into the waiting room about twenty minutes later. “What’s going on?”

“Take a look outside,” the Sergeant replies. Confused, Addison walks over to the door and looks out. The street was empty. There were no people to be found anywhere.

She walks to the room that Dean and Sam were in and knocks on the door. Dean opens the door and frowns at her. “You need to come outside and see this.” Addison tells them. They follow her outside where the others were still standing, looking around the town. Dean glances at the telephone pole with the word ‘croatoan’ carved into it.

* * *

It’s morning and Addison’s standing next to Dean and Sam watching as Duane and the Sergeant pack up a truck. Dr. Lee had checked Sam’s blood and he wasn’t infected. The disturbing part was that the sulfur had vanished from the other samples. “Doctor, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane tells Dr. Lee.

“I’ve gotta get over to Sidewinder. Get the authorities up here — if they’ll believe me. Take care,” Dr. Lee responds and they watch as the Sergeant and Duane drive away.

“What about him,” Dean asks, motioning towards Sam.

“He’s gonna be fine. No signs of infection,” Dr. Lee tells them and walks back inside the clinic. 

Dean turns to Sam, an questioning look on his face. “Hey, man, don’t look at me. I’ve got no clue,” Sam quickly replies. 

“I swear, I’m gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here? Why now? Where the hell did everybody go? It’s not like they just fucking melted.”

“Why was I immune?”

“Yeah, you know what, that’s a good question. You know, I’m already starting to feel like this is the one that got away,” Dean replies and looks at her. “You got my keys?” Addison pulls the keys out of her hoodie pocket and hands them to him, before the three of them get into the Impala and drive away.

* * *

It’s later in the afternoon and the three of them are by a river, having a few beers. Addison’s sitting on the fence, leaning against one of the posts. Sam and Dean were standing behind her. “So...last night. You wanna tell me what the hell you were talking about,” Sam asks and Addison looks at Dean a questioning look on her face.

“What do you mean,” Dean replies, not looking at her.

“What do I mean? I mean, you said you were tired of the job. And that it wasn’t just because of Dad.”

“Dean, what is he talking about,” Addison asks him.

“Nothing,” Dean tells her and looks at Sam. “Forget it.”

“No, I can’t. No way,” Sam counters.

“Come on, man, I thought we were both gonna die. You can’t hold that over me.”

“No, no, no. You can’t pull that crap with me, man. You’re talking.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep asking until you do.” 

“I don’t know, man. I just think maybe we oughta...go to the Grand Canyon.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth, cross-country. You know I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to T.J. or Hollywood, see if we can bang Lindsay Lohan.” 

“Dean, just spit it out already,” Addison says. 

“I’m saying we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can’t we live life a little bit?” 

“Why are you saying all this,” Sam asks him and Addison silently watches as Dean starts to walk away. “No, no, no. Dean, you’re my brother, all right? So, whatever weight you’re carrying...let me help a little bit.”

“I can’t. I promised.” 

“Who?” 

“Dad.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Right before Dad died...he told me something. He told me something about you.” 

“What? Dean, what did he tell you,” Sam demands.


	10. Hunted

"Before Dad died...he told me something. Something about you.” Dean says after a lengthy pause. Sam and Addison were staring at him. They both knew that John had talked to Dean. Addison didn’t want to pry, but she didn't put it past John to put something heavy on Dean's shoulders.

“What." Sam asks. "Dean, what did he tell you?"

Dean shifts. ”He said that he—he wanted me to watch out for you. Take care of you."

"He's told you that a million times."

Dean shakes his head. “No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you."

Sam stares at him. ”Save me from what?"

Dean sighs. “He just said that I had to save you. Nothing else mattered. And if I couldn't, I'd..."

"You'd what, Dean?"

"I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy."

"Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, he must've had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go dark-side or something? What else did he say, Dean?"

"Nothing. That's it, I swear."

Sam turns to Addison. "Do you know something, Addison?"

Addison climbs off the fence and shakes her head. "I don't know anything.” she tells him. "This is the first time I've ever heard anything about this."

Sam turns back to Dean. "How could you have not told me this?"

"Because he was dead and he begged me not to.” Dean answers and Addison lets out a frustrated sigh.

Sam glares at his older brother. “Who cares? Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!"

"You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he'd never opened his mouth! And I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day!"

A silence falls over them until Sam breaks it. "We've just gotta figure out what's going on then, what the hell all this means."

Dean shakes his head. “We do? I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low, you know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way, I could make sure—"

Sam scoffs. “What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?"

"I never said that."

"Jeez, if you're not careful, you will have to waste me one way, Dean."

"I never said that! Damn it, Sam, this whole thing is spinning out of control! You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me and I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"

"Forget it," Sam says, starting to walk away.

"Sam, please, man." Dean grabs Sam's shoulder, stopping him. "Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay, I'm begging you here. Please…please." Sam nods and the three of them stand there in silence.

* * *

Dean lets out a groan and tiredly looks at the clock, reading that the time was six in the morning. His gaze moves to the other bed and finds it empty. He turns to Addison and slides a hand under the cami she was wearing. She rolls onto her back and she stretches. He presses his lips against hers as his hand moves towards her shorts. “Sam gone.” Addison yawns as his lips trail across her collarbone.

“Hopefully getting breakfast.” Dean replies.

Addison pushes her shorts and panties down. “Guess we gotta be quick then.” she mutters, pulling him into a kiss.

A short while later, Dean’s pulling on his jeans. He looks around the room and frowns. He glances at the clock on the nightstand. Sam should’ve been back by now. Another look around the motel room, lets him know that Sam’s stuff is gone too. He runs into the bathroom where Addison was taking a shower. “Sam’s gone.”

Addison pokes out from behind the shower curtain. “He’s still not back?”

“Unless he took all his stuff to do a coffee run.”

Addison sighs. “All right. Let me finish and we’ll go look for him.” Dean turns and starts out of the bathroom, but stops when she grabs his arm. “Hey, we’ll find him. And when we do, I’ll kick his ass for not bringing breakfast.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

The ringing of Dean's cell phone cuts through the silence of the Impala and Dean grabs it off the seat next to him, glancing at the slowly awakening Addison. Knowing Sam, Dean figured that he might go to the Roadhouse. Dean decided to drive and see if he was there. "Hello?"

"It's Ellen.” comes the familiar voice.

"Hey, have you heard from Sam?"

Ellen sighs. “I have, but...he made me promise not to tell you where he is."

A frustrated look appears on Dean’s face. ”Come on, Ellen, please! Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after kid."

"Now, Dean, they say you can't protect your loved ones forever.” Ellen pauses. “Well, I say screw that. What else is family for? He's in Lafayette, Indiana."

"Thanks." Dean hangs up and drops his phone on the seat. He glances at Addison and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Lafayette, Indiana.”

"What are you going to do," Addison asks, pulling out a map.

"I have no idea," Dean answers. Addison reaches over and gives him a supportive pat on the leg. She was worried about Sam too, but she didn't let it show. She knew Dean was worried about the younger Winchester. It was in his nature to worry about Sam. Just like it was in her nature to worry about Dean.

* * *

"Well, thank God you're okay.” Dean comments, seeing Sam as they sit in the Impala and look into a motel room. Once in Lafayette, it had been easy to track Sam down to the motel he was staying in. Sam moves and he sees a brunette woman. "Oh, you're better than okay. Sam, you sly dog."

"What? Let me see.” Addison replies and leans over Dean to get a better view. She shakes her head and hands the binoculars back to Dean. “There has to be something more going on. Sam wouldn’t ditch us to get laid. That’s something you would do.”

Dean nods. “It is, isn’t it?”

Addison scoffs. “Uh, yeah.”

A loud noise echoes through out the parking lot and they exchange a worried look. They both see that the glass door to Sam's motel room was gone. "Stay here.” Dean orders, then hops out of the Impala. 

“Screw this.” Addison declares a few minutes and climbs out of the Impala. She starts to walk over to Sam's room. She stops and looks around, feeling like someone was watching her. She continues towards the motel, when something hits the back of her head and Addison falls to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

Addison wakes with a start. She was tied to a chair in an abandoned building of some kind. Dean was sitting next to her, glaring. She looks to find Gordon sitting in a chair, with a rifle in his lap. “Great." Addison mumbles.

Dean's cell phone rings and Gordon picks it up. He walks over to Dean and puts it right up against his ear. “Hello?" Dean asks.

“Dean." Sam greets.

Dean glances at Addison. "Sam, we've been looking for you."

"Yeah. Look, I'm in Indiana — Lafayette."

"We know."

"You do?"

"Yeah, me and Addie talked to Ellen." Addison glares at Dean for using the nickname she hated, even if it was a code word. "Just got here ourselves. It's a real funky town. You ditched us, Sammy."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Look, right now, there's someone after me."

"What? Who?"

"I don't know, that's what we need to find out. Where are you?"

"We're staying at 5637 Monroe Street. Why don't you meet us here?"

"Yeah, sure.” Sam replies and hangs up.

"Now, was that so hard.” Gordon asks, putting Dean's cell away.

"Bite me.” Dean coldly says. Gordon looks at Addison. "I swear, if you hurt her—"

"I can take care of myself.” Addison angrily interrupts. She glares at Gordon. "You even think about touching me, I'll cut off your balls and feed to them hyenas."

Dean smirks. "She'll do it too."

* * *

Addison wiggles in the chair. She was tired. She was hungry. She was cold. Her head hurt. And the fact that she needed to use a bathroom didn't help her mood any. Gordon was staring out the window, with a rifle in his lap. "Look, we know that we're not your favorite people.” she begins. "But isn't this a bit much?"

“What?" Gordon replies. "You think this is revenge?"

Addison nods. "Well, we did leave you tied up in your own mess for three days...which was awesome.” Dean comments, chuckling. "Sorry, I shouldn't laugh."

"Yeah. I was definitely planning on whopping your ass for that," Gordon tells them, retaking his seat in an old armchair.

Dean nods. “Mm hmm."

"But that's not what this is. This isn't personal. I'm not a killer. I'm a hunter. And Sam's fair game."

"What do you mean," Addison asks, confused.

"See, I was doing an exorcism down in Louisiana — teenage girl, seemed routine, some low level demon. But between all the jabbering and the head-spinning, the damn thing muttered something about a coming war. Now, I don't think it meant to. It just kind of slipped out. But it was too late — peaked my interest. And you can really make a demon talk if you've got the right tools."

"And what happened to the girl it was possessing," Dean coldly asks.

"She didn't make it."

"Well, you're a son of a bitch," Dean says. Gordon gets up. A staring match between ensues between the two men. Then Gordon back hands Addison. "You son of a bitch!"

Gordon back hands Addison a second time. She spits out blood and glares at the hunter. "That's my mama you're talking about. Anyway, this demon tells me they have soldiers to fight in this coming war — humans fighting on Hell's side, you believe that? I mean, they're psychics, so they're not exactly pure humans, but still...what kind of worthless scumbag you've gotta be to turn against your own race. But you know the biggest kick in the ass? This demon said I knew one of 'em — our very on Sammy Winchester."

Dean glares at the hunter. "Oh, this is a whole new level of moronic, even for you."

"Yeah? Come on, Dean. I know about Sam's visions. I know everything."

Addison snorts. She was pissed that he hit her. "And you believed a demon. How stupid are you?"

"Hey, I'm not some reckless yahoo, okay? I did my homework. Made damn sure it was true. Look, you got your Roadhouse connections, I got mine. It's how I found Sammy in the first place. About a month ago, I found another one of these freaks here in town. He could deep-fry a person just by touching them."

"Did he kill anyone?"

"Besides Mr. Tinkles, the cat? No. But he was working up to it. They're all gonna be killers. We've gotta take 'em all out. And that means Sammy, too."

"You think Sam's stupid enough to walk through that front door," Dean disbelievingly asks.

"No, I don't. Especially since I'm sure you found a way to warn him. You really think I'm that stupid? No...Sammy's gonna scope the place first, see me covering the front door. So, he's gonna take the back. And when he does, he'll hit the tripwire. Then...boom."

"Sam's not gonna fall for a fucking tripwire."

"Maybe you're right." Gordon sets down the rifle he had been preparing and pulls out another tripwire. "That's why I'll have a second one. Hey, look...I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to do this, I really do. But for what it's worth...it'll be quick."

When Gordon walks away, Addison leans over to Dean. "Everything will be fine, Dean," she softly tells, unsure if she was reassuring him or herself. Addison moves away as Gordon enters the room.

"Come on, I know Sam better than anyone. He's got more of a conscience than I do. I mean, the guy feels guilty surfing the internet for porn," Dean tells Gordon.

"Maybe you're right. But one day, he's gonna be a monster," Gordon counters.

"How, huh? How's a guy like Sam become a monster?"

"Beats me. But he will."

"No, you don't know that!"

"I'm surprised at you, Dean — getting all emotional. I'd heard you were more of a professional than this. Look, let's say you were cruising around in that car of yours, and you had Little Hitler riding shotgun, right? Back when he was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what he was gonna turn into someday. You'd take him out, no questions, am I right?"

Dean tenses. ”That's not Sam."

"Yes, it is. You just can't see it yet. Dean, it's his destiny. Look, I'm sympathetic. He's your brother, you love the guy. This has gotta hurt like hell for you. But here's the thing." Gordon puts a gag in Addison's mouth, before doing the same to Dean. "You would've wrecked him. But your Dad? If it really came right down to it, he would've had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?" Footsteps approach the empty warehouse and Addison glares at Gordon. "You hear him?" A door opens and Addison closes her eyes. "Here he comes." Dean lets out a muffled shout as an explosion goes off. "Oh, no. Not yet. Just wait and see." A second explosion goes off and Addison lets out a muffled sob. "Sorry, guys."

When the sounds of a fight break out, Addison leans against the chair. A few minutes later, Sam walks in the room and unties Dean from the chair. They stand up and Dean grabs Sam's face. "Son of a..." Dean says, turning to walk into the other room.

"Dean, no," Sam replies, stopping him.

"I let him live once, I'm not making the same mistake twice."

"Trust me. Gordon's taken care of," Sam tells him, untying Addison from the chair.

Addison stands up and pull the gag out of her mouth. She wraps her arms around Sam and tightly hugs him. She had been terrified that he had died. "Let's just get the hell out of here before the psycho nut job wakes up." Dean nods in agreement and the three of them walk out of the empty building.

Gun shots are heard and they take off running, not having to turn to know that it was Gordon. "You call this 'taken care of,’" Dean asks Sam as they hide behind a log on the ground. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Just trust me on this, all right," Sam tells him. Addison looks back as police cars surround Gordon. "Anonymous tip."

"You're a fine, upstanding citizen, Sam," Dean comments and Addison lets out a relived laugh.

* * *

“Yeah, he almost killed us because somebody over there can’t keep their fucking mouth shut,” Dean angrily says as he paces around the side of the road. Addison sends him a disapproving look. Sam was sitting in the Impala.

“And you honestly think that it was me,” Ellen replies. “Or Ash? Or Jo? No way.”

“Well, who else knows about Sam, huh? I mean you must have been talking to somebody.”

“Hey, you can say a lot of things about us. But we are not disloyal. And we’re not stupid. We haven’t breathed a word of this,” Ellen defends.

“Gordon said he had Roadhouse connections, Ellen.”

“And this roadhouse is full of other hunters. They’re all smart. They’re good trackers. Each of them with their own patterns and connections. Look, hell, I could name twelve of them right now that are capable of putting this together.” Ellen pauses. “I am sorry about what happened, Dean. But I can’t control these people. Or what they choose to believe.”

“We know,” Addison says, shooting Dean a look. “And we know that it wasn’t you guys. Call us if you hear anything?”

“You know I will.”

“Thanks, Ellen.” Dean snaps his phone shut. “You know that they—”

“There are hunters looking for Sam, Addison,” Dean angrily interrupts. “Who knows how many think the same shit as Gordon?”

“Yeah, Dean, I get that. But the only thing we can do is trying to figure out what the hell is going on and not worry about what a bunch of assholes want. If anymore come looking, then we’ll take care of them. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Dean looks away, knowing that she was right. He turns back to her and sees the slowly forming bruise on her face. “You want some ice for that?”

Addison shoots him a smile. “I’m fine. Let’s just go, huh.”

* * *

"Hey, Ava, it's Sam again. Call me when you get this. Just wanna make sure you got home okay. All right, bye,” Sam says, then hangs up his phone as the Impala speeds down the road in the dark. He sighs and shoves his phone in his pocket.

"Is everything okay," Addison asks him, leaning forward to rest on the back of the front seat.

Sam glances at her. "Yeah, I hope so."

"Well, Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years, at least," Dean comments, smirking.

"Yeah, if they pin Scott Carey's murder on him. And if he doesn't bust out."

"Dude, you ever take off like that again—"

"What? You'd kill me?"

"I'd bitch slap you. Really hard," Addison says and Sam lets out a laugh.

"All right. So, where to next, then?"

"One word — Amsterdam," Dean answers.

"Dean..."

"Come on, man, I hear the coffee shops don't even serve coffee."

"I'm not gonna just ditch the job."

"Screw the job. Screw it, man. I'm sick of the job anyway. We don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get is bad luck."

"Well, come on, dude. You're a hunter. It's what you were meant to do."

"No, I wasn't meant to do anything. I don't believe in that destiny crap."

"You mean, you don't believe in my destiny."

"Well, whatever."

"Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me."

"Well, I can try."

"Thanks for that...look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. Whatever's coming, I'm taking it head on. So, if you really wanna watch my back, then I guess you're both gonna have to stick around."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Addison sees Sam pulls out his phone and turns back to look out the window. Dean smirks. "You calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her something?"

Sam shoots him an annoyed look. “She's engaged, Dean."

"So? What's the point of saving the world if you can't get a little nookie once in a while, huh," Dean comments and sees Sam frown after he hangs up his phone. "What?"

"Just a feeling," Sam replies. "How far is it to Peoria?"

* * *

Addison stays behind Dean as they enter the small house. Not hearing any one answer when Sam called out, the group enters a bedroom and Addison lets out a gasp when they see a man lying in the bed, with blood everywhere. Dean walks over to the window and wipes something off. "Hey." He holds up his hand and she sees the yellow substance. "Sulfur. Demon's been here.

Sam steps on something and bends down to pick it up, finding Ava's engagement ring. "Ava?"


	11. Playthings

Addison and Dean walk into the motel room, each carrying cups of coffee to see Sam on his phone. Addison was still unsure about her feelings for Sam. Sam had explained how he had met Ava, but none of that helped Addison in dealing with her feelings. "Yeah. Okay thanks, Ellen," Sam says and hangs up the phone.

"What'd Ellen say," Addison asks him, taking a seat next to Sam on the bed.

"She's got nothing. Me, I've been checking every database I could think of - federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava. She just...into thin air, you? What about you two?"

"No, same as before. Sorry, man," Dean answers.

"Yeah. Ellen did have one thing," Sam replies and they wait for him to continue. "A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut - two freak accidents in the past three weeks."

"How does that have anything to do with Ava," Addison asks him. She may not like Ava, but the woman's disappearance had something to do with a demon and that was enough to make her concerned. Especially since Ava had psychic powers like Sam.

"It's a job," Sam counters. "I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub, then a few days ago, guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete 180. Which isn't exactly normal, you know? Look, I don't know, it might be nothing. But I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

"You did," Dean asks.

"Yeah. You seem surprised."

"Well, it's just not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?"

"And what way is that?"

"I just figured after Ava, there'd be more angst, droopy music, staring out the rainy windows," Dean answers. Addison rolls her eyes as Sam stares at his brother. "Okay, I'll shut up now."

"Look, I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now, her fiancée's dead and some demon has taken her off to God-knows-where, you know? We've been looking for a month now. We've got nothing. So, I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not gonna let other people die either. We've gotta save as many people as we can."

"Wow. That attitude is just way to healthy for me. I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you." Addison snorts, moving over to her duffle bag." All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it," Dean tells him.

* * *

They pull up in front of the large hotel and Addison examines the old building. To her, it was just like every other mansion on the east coast. With exception that it was a hotel. They get out and gather their gear from the Impala's trunk. "Dude, this is sweet! We never get to work jobs like this," Dean comments as they start walking towards the hotel.

"Like what?” Sam asks him.

"Old-school haunted houses, you know? Fog, secret passageways, sissy British accents. We might even run into Fred and Daphne—"

"You say one thing about me being Daphne and I'll smack you.” Addison interrupts him and Dean sends her a disbelieving look. "I'm serious, Dean."

"I'm not so sure 'haunted' is the problem.” Sam comments and they turn to where he is pointing to an urn.

"What are you talking about," Addison asks him, moving to stand next to him.

"You see this pattern here? That's a quincunx. It's a five-spot."

"A five-spot," Dean asks.

"It's used for hoodoo spell work. Fill the urn with bloodweed and you have a powerful charm to keep enemies away," Addison explains.

"Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too white-meat for hoodoo?"

"Maybe," Sam replies. They enter the motel and walk over to the front desk where a woman was standing.

"May I help you," the woman asks them and Addison notices the nameplate, reading that the woman's name was Susan.

"Hi, yeah. We'd like a room for a couple of nights," Dean answers as a little girl runs by them. The girl bumps into Sam, but keeps running.

"Hey," Susan scolds and turns to them. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Sam replies.

"Well, congratulations. You could be some of our final guests."

"That's a little ominous," Addison comments, pulling out her credit card.

"No, I'm sorry. I mean we're closing at the end of the month. Let me guess - you're here antiquing?"

"Yes, we are. Me and my bestest buddies," Addison answers and Susan gives her a smile. "How'd you know?"

"Oh, you just look the type." Addison inwardly smirks. She knew exactly what Susan thought of them. "So, two rooms with a king sized bed in each?"

"No, no, uh, no, one room with two doubles," Sam says. He motions between himself and Dean. "We're just brothers."

Dean puts his arm around Addison's shoulders and pulls her against his side. "Oh...oh, I'm so sorry," Susan replies, flushing with embarrassment.

"What'd you mean that we look the type," Dean asks.

"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that," Sam asks, saving Susan any further embarrassment.

"You know I have no idea. It's been there forever. Here you go, Miss Jones," Susan answers. She hands Addison a key. "You'll be staying in Room 237." An older man, wearing a suit walks into the room and Addison raises an eyebrow. "Sherwin, could you show our guests to their rooms?"

"Let me guess - antiquers.” Sherwin asks them. He takes their bags and the key from Addison, then they follow him up the stairs to their room.

"I can give you a hand with that bag," Dean says, as Sherwin drags the weapons bag behind him.

"I've got it."

"Okay."

"So, the hotel's closing up, huh," Sam asks him.

"Yep. Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame."

"What do you mean," Addison asks Sherwin.

"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here. I practically grew up here - gonna miss it. Here's your room," Sherwin unlocks the door and they enter the room. Addison turns to see Sherwin holding his hand out and Dean staring at him. "You're not gonna cheap out on me, are you, boy?"

* * *

Dean lightly hits Addison on the shoulder and she looks at him. "There's your wedding dress, Ads." Dean motions to the where a old dress was hanging on the wall and she rolls her eyes. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."

"All right. Victim number one - Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor, handling the sale of the hotel," Sam explains to them. "And victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."

"Well, there's a connection. They're both tied up in shutting the place down."

"Yeah. Maybe someone here doesn't wanna leave and they're using hoodoo to fight back."

"Who do you think the witch doctor is? That Susan lady?"

"She's selling the place, Dean," Addison comments, standing up from one of the beds.

"So, what then? Sherwin?"

"I don't know," Sam answers.

"Of course, the most troubling question is, 'Why do these people assume we're gay?'" 

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that, hot stuff," Addison replies, slapping Dean's ass before entering the bathroom.

* * *

 

The three of them are walking down the hallway. After going over the research, Addison had made the suggestion of exploring the hotel. She mostly said it because she was bored. Sam stops, noticing something on the vase. "Hey. Look at that. More hoodoo."

Dean knocks on a door that had a sign that read private and Susan answers. "Hi there."

"Hi. Everything okay with your room," Susan asks them.

"Uh, yeah, everything is great," Addison answers as Dean and Sam do the same.

"Good. Well, I was just in the middle of packing, so—"

"Hey, are those antique dolls," Dean asks and Addison notices the wall of dolls in the room. "Cause this one here..." Dean pushes Addison forwards and she tensely grins. "She's got a major doll collection back home. Don't ya, babe?"

"Yep, a huge doll collection.” Addison answers, silently thinking of ways to get back at Dean.

"You think we could come in and take a look?"

"I don't know.” Susan replies.

"Please. I mean she loves them. She's not gonna tell you this, but she's always dressing them up in these little, tiny outfits, and you'd make her day." Dean turns to her and Addison stares at him. "She would, huh? Huh?"

Addison turns to Susan. "It - it really would."

"Okay. Come on in." Susan moves from the door and they enter the room.

"All right. All right...wow. This is a lot of dolls. Nice, you know - not super-creepy at all," Dean comments.

"Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."

Sam notices a dollhouse sitting on the coffee table. "What is this? The hotel?"

"Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom-built," Susan answers and Sam sees a doll with a head turned backwards, showing it to Addison and Dean.

"His head got twisted around. What happened to it?"

"Tyler, probably," Susan tells him as the little girl from earlier runs into the room.

"Mommy, Maggie's being mean," Tyler says.

"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?"

"Hey, Tyler. I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it," Sam asks Tyler.

"I didn't break it. I found it like that," Tyler tells him. Addison smirks at the tone in the girl's voice.

"Oh. Well, maybe Maggie did it."

"No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke them."

"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad," Susan tells Tyler.

"Grandma," Dean asks.

"Grandma Rose. There were all her toys," Tyler answers.

"Oh really...where's Grandma Rose now?"

"Up in her room."

"I'd really like to talk to Rose about her amazing doll-" Addison starts to asks before Susan interrupts.

"No," Susan sternly says and Addison frowns. "I mean...I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But, uh, thanks for letting me look at the dolls. So, we're just going to leave you to pack," Addison tells Susan and the three of them leave the room, heading back down the hallway towards their room.

"Well, what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma," Dean comments.

"Well dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses and binding spells," Sam answers and Addison nods in agreement.

"Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor. We'll go see what we can dig up on Booming Granny. You get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing. See if she's whacked anybody before."

"Right."

"And don't go surfing porn, that's not the kind of whacking I mean," Dean tells him and Addison rolls her eyes, grabbing her bag off the bed and following Dean out of the room.

"What was up with the whole doll thing," Addison demands, once they're outside the hotel. "I've never had a doll collection. Nor would I ever have a creepy doll collection."

"It was payback for what you said to that Susan lady when we checked in," Dean replies and Addison rolls her eyes.

* * *

Addison and Dean walk up to Susan, having just gotten back from the local library to see the cops and corner loading a body in a van. Of course while she researched, Dean had talked to the pretty librarian. And Addison felt smug at the fact that the librarian had no interest in Dean. "What happened," Dean asks Susan.

"The maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just…" Susan rubs her arms, trying to give herself some form of comfort. "Hanging there."

"That's horrible. Was he a guest," Addison softly asks.

"He worked for the company that bought the place. I don't understand."

"What," Dean asks.

"I've had a lot of bad luck around here. Look, if you'd like to check out, I'll give you a full refund."

"No, thanks. We don't scare that easy," Dean answers and they walk into the hotel. They quietly walk up the stairs and enter the room. Sam was sitting in the dark, staring at the wall. Addison turns on a lamp and he blinks at the fluorescent light fills the room. "There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room."

"Yeah. I saw," Sam replies.

"Did you find anything online," Addison asks him.

"You're super short."

Addison stares at him. "Sam, are you drunk?"

Sam shrug. "Yeah. So? Stupid."

"Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case," Dean angrily demands.

"That guy who hung himself - I couldn't save him," Sam tearfully answers and Addison lets out a sigh.

"What are you talking about? You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything."

"That's an excuse, Dean. I should've found a way to save him. I should've saved Ava, too."

"Sam, you can't save everyone," Addison softly tells him. "And you know that."

"No, Addison, you don't understand, all right? The more people I save, the more I can change."

"Change what," Dean asks him.

"My destiny, Dean!"

"All right, time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch." Dean grabs Sam and pushes him towards the bed.

"I need you to watch out for me."

"Yeah. I always do."

"No, no, no. You both have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not...you have to kill me."

"Sam..."

"Dean, Dad told you do it. You have to."

"Yeah, well, Dad's an ass. He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't lay that kind of shit on your kids."

"No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!"

"Well, I'm not dying, Addison's not dying, okay? And neither are you. Come on." Dean pushes Sam on the bed. Addison lets out a sigh.

"No, please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise."

"Don't ask that of me."

"Dean, please. You have to promise me."

"I promise," Dean says after a moment and Sam drunkenly hugs him.

"Thanks. Thank you," Sam replies and lies down on the bed.

"Go. I'll stay," Addison tells him. Dean nods and walks out of the room. She grabs her laptop of out her bag and sits down on the bed she was sharing with Dean.

"Ads." She looks over to find Sam staring at her.

"You okay?"

"Come here." Addison sits down on the edge of his bed. He pulls her farther onto the bed and rests his head in her lap. "Love you.” She looks down at him. Addison sighs and runs her hand through his hair.

* * *

Addison searches through her bag and pulls out a bottle of aspirin as Dean walks over to the bathroom the next morning. "How you feeling, Sammy," Dean asks and gets a groan in response. "I guess mixing whiskey and Jager wasn't a such a gangbuster idea, was it? I bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"

"Ugh, I can still taste the tequila," Sam groans out.

"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy. It's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."

"Oh, I hate you."

Addison rolls her eyes and walks over to the bathroom. "Catch. Aspirin always help with the headache," she says and Sam catches the bottle.

"Hey, it turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace," Dean explains to them.

"Think she taught Rose a thing or to?"

"Yes, I do."

"All right. I think it's time we talk to Rose, then," Sam replies, standing up. He leans against the door. They both take a couple of steps away from him.

"You need to brush your teeth first," Dean tells him.

* * *

They arrive at Susan's door and Sam knocks on it. "Hello? Susan," Sam asks and silence is heard. "All clear?"

"Uh huh," Addison answers, looking around. The door opens and the three of them enter the apartment. Dean opens another door and they walk up the stairs until they see an old woman sitting in a wheelchair in the dark.

"Mrs. Thompson? Mrs. Thompson? Rose?" They walk around to front of the chair and Addison sees that Rose is very scared. "Hi, Mrs. Thompson. We're not here to hurt you, it's okay. We...Rose?" Rose tries to speak but is unable and Addison pulls Sam and Dean away.

"She's had a stroke, so it can't be her," Addison whispers. Sam nods in agreement. "Hoodoo is hands on, you have to mix herbs, chant, build an altar."

"Might not even be hoodoo," Sam comments.

"You know, she could be faking," Dean tells them and Addison stares at him.

"What are you going to do? Poke her with a stick," Addison asks him and Dean nods. "Dean! You're not gonna poke that poor lady with a stick!"

"What the hell? What are you doing in here," a voice demands and they turn to see that Susan had entered the room.

"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose," Sam quickly explains to Susan.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you three out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops," Susan angrily tells them and they leave the room.

* * *

Addison and Dean reach Sam and Susan, as Sam helps Susan up. They had stayed hidden in the bushes after parking the Impala out of view from any of the hotel's windows. But the moment Susan's car had started towards her, Sam had rushed out to help. "You okay," Sam asks Susan.

"I think so," Susan answers.

"Come on, come on. Let's get inside," Dean tells them and they quickly enter the hotel, moving to the dining room.

"Whiskey," Susan says as Addison moves behind the bar.

"I know the feeling," Addison reassures Susan.

"What the hell happened out there?"

"You want the truth," Dean asks Susan.

"Of course."

"Well, at first, we thought it was some sort of a hoodoo curse. But that out there? That was definitely a spirit," Dean explains.

"You're insane," Susan says, as Addison hands her the drink.

"So, we've been told," Addison comments.

"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have time to ease you into this. But we need to know when your mother had the stroke," Sam says and Susan looks at him.

"What does that have to do with anything," Susan asks.

"Just answer the question."

"About a month ago."

"Right before the killings began," Sam comments and turns to them. "See? So, what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone, to protect them?"

"She was using the five-spot urns to ward off a spirit," Dean reasons.

"Until she had a stroke and was unable to continue," Addison finishes.

Susan looks at the three of them. "I don't believe this."

"Listen, sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay," Dean replies and Addison shakes her head in disbelief. "Well, I guess it did, technically, but a spirit can - forget it."

"Just believe what you want, all right? But the fact is you and your family are in danger. So you need to clear everybody out of her - your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone," Sam says to Susan.

"Um, I only have one daughter," Susan corrects.

"One," Addison asks, confused.

"I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie," Dean asks.

"Maggie's imaginary," Susan explains and they exchange a look.

"Where's Tyler," Sam asks.

"Her room," Susan answers and stands up, before running out of the dining room. The three of them follow Susan up to Tyler's room and enter to see that most of the dolls are broken. "Oh my God. Tyler! Tyler! She's not here!"

"Susan, what do you know about Maggie," Addison asks the frantic mother.

"Not much. Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick."

"Did you know someone with that name?"

"No."

"Think, think. Maybe somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away," Dean asks.

"Oh my God. My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."

"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid," Sam asks.

"She drowned in the pool," Susan answers.

"Come on," Dean says and the four of them exit the room. They run out the hotel and to the pool house. When they arrive they can see Tyler standing on the ledge through the class doors.

"Tyler," Susan shouts as Sam and Dean try to break down the door. "Tyler!"

"Come on!"

"Mommy," Tyler shouts before falling off the ledge.

"Is there another entrance," Dean asks Susan.

"Around back," Susan answers.

"All right, let's go. You two keep working."

"Go," Addison tells him and Susan shows Dean to the other entrance. "Sam, use the urn, it might break the glass." She moves back and watches as Sam slams the stone urn against the glass, which finally breaks. Sam pushes the glass away and runs onto the ledge, before jumping off the ledge into the pool, as she gets through the door. Addison rushes down the stairs as Dean and Susan enter the pool house. Sam lays a limp Tyler on the edge of the pool and they wait in a tense silence until the little girl coughs up water.

"Oh, thank God! Thank God," Susan breathes out and tightly embraces her daughter.

"Mommy," Tyler says.

"Yeah, baby, I'm here!"

"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere," Sam asks.

"No, she's gone," Tyler answers and they let out a relived sigh.

* * *

Addison, Dean, and Sam walk over to where Susan was watching the coroners put her mother's body in the truck. Susan had found her mother not breathing and they had rushed up to see what had happened. "The paramedics said it was another stroke. You think Margaret could have had something to do with it," Susan asks them.

"We don't know," Dean answers.

"But it's possible," Sam counters and gives Susan a sad smile. "Susan, I'm sorry."

"God, you have nothing to apologize for. You've given me everything," Susan tells him as Tyler comes outside. Susan puts an arm around her and pulls her close. "Ready to go, kiddo?"

"Yeah," Tyler says.

"Tyler, are you sure that Maggie isn't around anymore," Addison asks the little girl.

"I'm sure. I'd see her," Tyler tells her as they walk to a taxi.

"Well, I guess whatever's going on must be over," Dean reasons and Addison nods.

"You two take care of yourselves, all right," Sam says to Susan, who gives him a hug.

"Thank you. All of you," Susan tells them and gets into the taxi.

"I think you could've hooked up some MILF action there, man," Dean comments and Addison rolls her eyes, as they start walking over to the Impala.

"Yeah, that's all she needs," Sam retorts.

"Well, you saved the mom, you saved the girl - not a bad day. Of course, you know I could've saved her myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless."

Sam scoffs. "All right, I appreciate it."

"Feels good to get back in the saddle, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night."

"We talked about a lot of things last night."

"You know what I mean."

"Sam, you were drunk," Addison comments.

"But Dean wasn't," Sam says to her and looks at his brother. "And you promised." Sam gets in the Impala and Addison looks at Dean.

"You're not going to have to do anything," Addison quietly tells him and climbs into the backseat of the Impala. Dean stands there for a minute, before getting in the driver's seat.


	12. Nightshifter

"Helena was our head buyer. She — she was family, you know? She said it herself. Every year at the Christmas party, she said we were the only family she had.” the man working at the jewelry store explains to Addison and Sam while Dean was talking to the other employee. The mysterious death of a woman who worked there caught their attention a couple of days ago.

"Helena never displayed any signs that she'd do anything like this?” Addison asks. To her, robbing a jewelry store and committing suicide a few hours later meant that something was definitely up.

"No," the man answers. "I still can't believe it, even now. That night, Helena came back to the store after closing, cleaned out all the display cases and the safe. Edgar, our night watchman - he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do. He'd known her for years. He called me at home."

"And that's when she took his gun," Sam asks.

"She shot him in the face. I heard him die through the phone."

"What do you think her motive was," Addison asks.

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry, then what? Just dump it somewhere? Just hide and it and then go home and..." He shakes his head. "It makes no sense."

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary on the security tapes?"

"Uh, well..."

"So, you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then," Sam asks him.

"The police — they took all the tapes, first thing." 

"Lovely," Addison mutters. The man stares at her. She tensely smiles back in return. Dean joins them and she notices the other employee, a pretty young woman, staring at him. Sam shoots him an annoyed look. Dean shrugs and Addison sighs, before walking out.

* * *

The small white house they pull up in front of was in an area where many of the houses looked like they were built in fifties. The front yard was fenced in. "This is it," Sam says, climbing out of the Impala. He drops the file in the front seat.

"I hate when cops make everything so difficult," Addison comments.

"They're just doing their job, Ads."

"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it," Dean counters as they walk up to the front door. "Talk to me about this bank."

"Milwaukee National Trust — it was hit about a month ago."

"Same M.O. as the jewelry store?"

"An employee who would never do it," Addison says. "Guy robs the place, goes home, and commits suicide."

"And this guy, Resnick — he was a security guard on duty?"

"Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place."

"Poor guy," Addison mutters.

Sam nods. He knocks on the door. "Mr. Resnick? Ronald Resnick?" A bright light suddenly comes on. Addison holds up a hand to block the light from her face. A man with curly shoulder length hair appears behind the glass door. "FBI, Mr. Resnick."

"Let me see the badge," Ronald replies. The three of them pull out their badges and slam them against the door. "I already gave my statement to the police."

"Yeah, listen, Ronald," Dean begins. "There's just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on."

"You read it?"

"Of course we read it," Addison answers.

"Come to listen to what I've gotta say?"

"Well, that's why we're here," Dean tells him.

Ronald stares at them for a moment, then opens the door. "Come on in." The house was small and was filled with science fiction memorabilia. An old TV and couch were in the living. The coffee table was covered in magazines she had never heard of. Dean sits down on the couch. "None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. They all thought I was crazy."

"Well, Mr. Resnick, just start at the beginning," Addison says.

"Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That I guarantee. See, me and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts and we'd play cards."

"So, you let him into the bank than," Sam questions. "After hours."

"The thing I let into the bank...wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a doll maker made it. Like I was talking to a big Juan doll."

"A Juan doll?"

Ronald hands Sam a file. "Look. This wasn't the only time this happened, okay? There was this jewelry store, too, and the cops and you guys - you just won't see it. Both crimes were pulled by the same thing."

"And what's that, Mr. Resnick," Addison asks.

Ronald picks up one of the magazines. The headline read 'Birth of the Cybermen.' "Chinese have been working on it for years. And the Russians before that — part-man, part-machine. Like the Terminator, but the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people."

"Like the one from T2," Dean states.

"Exactly! See, it's not just a robot. It's more of a — a mandroid."

"A mandroid," Sam disbelievingly states.

"What makes you so sure about your theory, Mr. Resnick," Addison asks.

Ronald grabs a tape and puts into the VCR. "See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them, they'd be buried. Here." He plays the tape. The footage was grainy, but they watch as Ronald appears on the screen. Another man follows him. "Watch...watch him...watch him. Look! There it is!" Ronald pauses the tape. Juan's eyes were glowing. "You see, he's got the laser eyes. The cops said it was of reflected light, some kind of camera flare. Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm post-trauma case. So, what? Bank goes and fires me? It don't matter! The mandroid is still out there! The law won't hunt this thing down, I'll do it myself. You see, this thing - it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide. Then it sort of morphs into that person, cases the job for a while till it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening." Ronald points to a map that was hanging on the wall. "Now, these robberies - they're grouped together, so I figure that the mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle. Underground, maybe, I don't know. Maybe that's where it recharges it, uh...mandroid batteries!"

Addison glances at Sam and Dean. "Okay," Sam begins. "I want you to listen very carefully. Cause I'm about to tell you the God's honest truth about all of this. There's no such thing as mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. It's just people. Nothing else, you understand?"

"But...the laser eyes."

"It's just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. See, I know you don't wanna believe this, but your friend, Juan, robbed the bank and that's it."

An angry look appears on Ronald's face. "Get out of my house! Now!"

* * *

Addison flops down on the bed in the motel room. She hated wearing heels when they pretended to feds or reporters. Dean was sitting at the table, drawing on a map to find the next potential target. Sam grabs some beers out of the mini fridge. "Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up," Dean comments. "You tell that poor son of a bitch that — what did you say? Remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation? That's messed up."

"What, are you pissed at me or something," Sam asks, grabbing a chair from the table. The security tape they had taken from Ronald was playing on the TV.

"No, I just think it's a little creepy of how good of a fed you are. Come on, we could've at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here."

Addison snorts. "Mandroid?"

"Except for the mandroid part. I liked him. He's not that different from us. People think we're crazy."

"Yeah, except he's not a hunter, Dean," Sam says. "He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing, he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark and stay alive."

"Yeah, I guess."

Sam pauses the tape. "Shape shifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video."

"Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those fucking things."

Addison sits up. "And you think I don't?"

"Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder."

"Well, one didn't try to kill you or possibly rape you."

"Look," Sam says. "If the shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri—"

"Then Ronald's right," Dean interrupts. “All right, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. Now, all the robberies have been connected so far, right?" They both nod. "To the sewer main layout." He taps the map. "There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main."

* * *

The employees of the City Bank of Milwaukee were going about their normal routines as the security guard leads Dean, Sam, and Addison through the busy lobby. This time, they were undercover as employees of a security company. "Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet," the guard tells them.

"It's a glitch in the entire system," Addison tells him. "We just wanna make sure that the branch monitors are working."

"Better to be safe than sorry, I guess."

"That's the plan," Dean replies.

They stop in front of plain door. The guard opens it and they enter the small room. Six monitors were on the wall, with two chairs in front of them. "All right. You guys need anything else."

"Oh, no, no," Sam says. "We'll be in and out before you know it. Just a routine check."

"Okey dokey," the guard says before leaving.

Addison closes the door. She rolls her eyes seeing that they had sat down. "I like him," Dean says. "He says 'okey dokey.'"

"And what if he's the shifter," Addison counters.

"Well, then we follow him home with a silver bullet in his chest plate." Addison sits on Dean's leg. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Dean shoves her off. "Dean!"

Later in the afternoon, the three of them are still in the security room. Addison was sharing a chair with Sam. She covers her mouth as she yawns. "Well, it looks like Mr. Okey Dokey is...okey dokey," Dean comments.

"Maybe we jumped the gun on this, Dean," Sam says. "We don't even know it's here. Maybe we should just go back to the sewers and..."

Addison slaps the back of Dean's head. He had zoomed in on of the female employee's butt. "Eyes, Dean."

"I'm getting there," Dean counters, zooming out.

"Uh huh."

"Wait a minute." Dean moves the camera over to the bank manager, who has glowing eyes on the screen. "Hello, freak."

"Got him," Sam says, standing up.

"Guys," Addison says. She taps one of the monitors. Ronald was wrapping a chain around the main entrance doors. A rifle was hanging from a strap on his shoulder.

The three of them run out of the security office. "And you said we shouldn't bring guns," Dean says.

"I didn't know this was gonna happen, Dean," Sam argues.

"Just let me do the talking. I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson."

By the time they reach the main lobby, Ronald has everyone kneeling on one side of the lobby. "Now, there's only one way in our out of here, and I chained it up. So nobody's leaving, you understand," Ronald says.

"Hey buddy," Dean greets, holding his hands up. "Calm down. Just calm down."

"What? You?! Get on the floor, now!"

They kneel down, holding their hands up. "Okay. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us."

"I knew it. As soon as you three left. You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who you working for, huh? The men in black? You working for the mandroid?!"

"We're not working for the mandroid," Sam tells him.

"You, shut up! I ain't talking to you, I don't like you!"

Addison notices the smirk on Dean's face and she rolls her eyes. "Fair enough.” Sam replies.

Ronald turns to the group behind him. He points to one of the bank employees. "Get over here. Frisk them down, make sure they've got no weapons. Go!" The employee walks over and pats Sam down first. Sam unhappily watches as the employee pats down Addison. They watch as the employee pats down Dean and finds a knife in his sock. "Now, what have we here?"

"I'm not just gonna walk in here naked.” Dean hisses as the employee hands the knife to Ronald.

"Get back down," Ronald orders after employee drops the knife down a trash chute.

"No, no, no, no," Dean exclaims. "We know you don't wanna hurt anybody. But that's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around. Now, why don't you let these people go?"

"No! I already told you, if nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've gotta do it myself!"

"Ronald," Addison cautiously begins. "We believe you. It's why we're here."

"You don't believe me! Nobody believes me! How could they?"

"Come here," Dean says.

"What? No!"

"You're holding the gun, boss, you're calling the shots. I just wanna tell you something. Come here." Cautiously, Ronald walks over to them. "It's the bank manager."

A confused look appears on Ronald's face. "What?"

"Why do you think we got these get ups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes."

"His laser eyes?"

"Yes — no, no! Look, we're running out of time, okay? We've gotta find him before he changes into someone else."

"Like I'm gonna listen to you! You're a damn liar!" Dean slowly stands up. Ronald aims the gun at him. "I'll shoot you, get down!"

"Take me. Take me with you, take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Cause the longer we just sit here, the more time he has to change. Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank."

Ronald stares at him. "Alright. You come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!" Ronald ushers everyone into the bank vault. Addison shares a frustrated look with Sam. "Come on, move! Move, move!" Ronald turns to Dean. "Now, you lock it."

"It's okay, everyone. Just stay cool," Dean says, then closes the door.

"Who is that man?" Addison turns to see a blonde woman behind them. The name tag on her blazer read 'Sherri.'

"My brother.” Sam answers.

"He is so brave.” Sherri gushes.

Addison shakes her head and sits down. Sam reluctantly sits down next to her. "I swear, I'm gonna end up in prison because of someone with the last name Winchester.”

* * *

Addison was annoyed. She was hot and sweaty. She was frustrated at the turn of events. But at the moment, locked in the bank vault, she was annoyed. "Has your brother always been so…wonderful." Sherri asks. "I mean, staring down that gun. And, you know, the way he played right into that psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to hear. He's like a real hero or something."

"Would you shut the fuck up.” Addison snaps, glaring at Sherri. "We get it. You want to blow him for saving your life."

The vault door opens and they turn to see Dean. "Oh my God!” Sherri exclaims. Addison rolls her eyes. "You saved us! You saved us!"

"Actually, I just found a few more.” Dean replies. He waves a small gun and group of bank employees enter the vault.

"What are you doing?"

"Sam, Ads, Ronald and I need to talk to you." Addison sighs and follows them out of the vault. Dean closes the vault before turning to them. He had ditched his security costume. "It shed its skin again. We don't know when. Could be in the halls, could be in the vault."

"Great," Addison sarcastically says. "You're a wanted criminal, Dean."

"Yeah."

"So, even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here," Sam asks.

"I don't know, one problem at a time. All right, Me and Ads are gonna do a sweep of the whole place to see if I can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together, we've gotta play a little game of 'find the freak.' So, here — I found a couple more of these." Dean holds out silver letter openers and they each take one. "Sam, stay here. Make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody. Help him manage the situation."

"Help him manage? Are you insane?"

Dean glances at Ronald, who was standing near a desk. He grins at Ronald. "Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted it too—"

"Really, Dean," Addison snaps.

"But if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away. We'll probably never find it again, okay?" Sam motions to Ronald. Dean turns to see Ronald looking out the door, his gun raised. "Ron! Out of the light!"

"Seriously," Sam states.

"Yeah, Ron's gameplay was a bad plan. I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now, crazy's the only game in town, okay?" Addison shrugs and runs after Dean. They duck under windows to avoid being seen by the police outside the building.

"Dean," Addison hisses, grabbing his arm. He looks back at her. She motions to an office.

They enter the office. "See something?" She punches him in the arm. "What the fuck, Ads!"

"That's in case I end up in prison."

"You worry too much." Dean notices the ceiling tiles above Addison as she shrugs out of her costume. One of them was crooked. He pushes Addison to the side and grabs a coat rack. Dean touches the ceiling tile. A body falls onto the floor between them.

"Dean." He looks up at her. "He's in the vault."

* * *

After quickly making their way back to the vault, they find Sam and Ronald standing by the open vault door. The security guard was panting while the shapeshifter was holding him up. Dean walks up to Sam and whispers the information. "You know what, Ronald," Sam begins. "He's right. We've gotta get this man outside. Come on, I've got you."

"Yeah, I'll help you," the shifter says.

"We've got him," Addison says, stepping up to the security guard. She and Sam lead the guard away from the vault. The shapeshifter runs past them, with Ronald following him. Ronald stops in the middle of the lobby.

Sam sees the red dot on the back of Ronald's back. "Ronald," he shouts. "Get down! Now!" A shot rings. Glass shatters. Ronald falls to the ground. Blood pools around him. Sam grabs Addison's arm and pulls her along with the guard over to where Dean is hiding behind one of the counter. "Take care of the guard. I'm going after the shifter."

Dean glances over where Ronald's body was lying. "Sorry, Ron," he quietly says, crawling over. He grabs the rifle. "You did a real good job tracking this thing, you really did." He grabs the guard's arm and leads him over to the door. He undoes the cord around the door and opens it, pushing the guard in front of him.

"Don't shoot," the guard shouts, holding up his hands. "Don't shoot!"

Dean aims the gun at the SWAT team. "No, no, no! Don't even think about it!" He sees the numerous cop cars and helicopters flying around the building. "I said get back, now!" The guard runs across the street and Dean closes the door. He puts the cord back around the door handles. "We are so screwed."

Addison looks up when Dean rejoins her behind the counter. "The guard get out okay," she softly asks.

"Yeah." He glances over at Ronald's body. "Not our fault, Ads."

"I know." Dean holds out his hand and she takes it. Together, they make their way out of the lobby. Addison's cell phone rings and she pulls it out of her pocket. "Yeah," she asks, putting it on speaker.

"Slipped its skin.” Sam tells them.

“What?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, bastard shifts fast. A lot faster than the one in St. Louis."

"Great. It could be anybody," Addison replies. "Again."

"I think most of the employees are out of the vault by now."

“All right," Dean begins. "You and Ads search every inch of this place. I'm gonna go round everybody up."

"I hate this stupid case," Addison says, shoving her phone in her pocket. She starts to go down on of the hallways, but stops. "Dean." He looks at her. "Be careful."

"You too."

* * *

Addison hides under the desk. She had heard windows breaking and heavy footsteps. The office door opens and she closes her eyes. This was the moment she had always feared. Being handcuffed, dragged away, and locked up in a padded cell somewhere. She had lost track of where the boys and she shapeshifter were. And when she heard a window breaking, she ducked into the nearest office and hid. Footsteps near her. She looks up to find two men dressed in SWAT gear. One of them pulls down the mask. "Sam," Addison disbelievingly asks.

Sam smiles at her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Did you get the shifter?"

"It's been taken care of," Dean says from behind his SWAT mask. He grabs Addison's arm and pulls her up. "Be a damsel in distress."

Addison glares at Dean. “Excuse me? Do you want to repeat that, Winchester?”

Sam sighs. "Guys." He pulls down the mask. He places a hand on Addison's back as they follow Dean out of the room. None of them say anything as they pass other SWAT guys. Addison keeps her head down, pretending to be a hostage. They exit through the back door and walk up the stairs to the parking garage.

Once inside the Impala, the guys pull off the masks. "We are so screwed," Dean states.

“No shit,” Addison snaps as Dean starts the Impala and they drive out of the parking deck.


	13. Houses of the Holy

Addison and Sam enter the small bedroom in the mental hospital. A couple of weeks had passed since the hunt in Milwaukee. And while they were still worried about being caught, there were still monsters that needed to be hunted. Addison had taken the opportunity and cut her hair to where it now fell below her ears. The woman, Gloria, was sitting on her bed and reading a bible. "Good morning. You're not the usual guy.” she greets.

"No, just filling in.” Sam lies. He motions to Addison. "She's new here and I'm showing her the ropes. So, how you feeling today, Gloria?"

"I've never felt better."

"Any disturbances lately," Addison asks.

Gloria smiles. "You mean, am I stark raving cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?"

Addison winces. "Well, I didn't mean that exactly—"

"That's all right. I know what people must think."

"What do you think," Sam asks.

"I think what I saw was real."

Sam sits down at the small table across the room. "I'd like to know what you saw."

"It was all over the news. I stabbed a man in the heart."

"Why did you do it," Addison asks.

"Because it was God's will."

"So, God talked to you?"

Gloria chuckles. "I get the sense God's a little busy for house calls. No, He - He sent someone."

"Who?"

"An angel. It came to me in this beautiful, white light. And it filled me with this feeling. It's hard to describe."

Sam nods. "And this angel..."

"Spoke God's word."

"So, the angel told you to kill someone," Addison disbelievingly asks.

"I know, it sounds strange. But what I did was very important. I helped Him smite an evil man. I was chosen for redemption."

"This man you stabbed," Sam begins. "Did the angel give you his name?"

"No. He just told me to wait for the sign, and the very next day I saw it. Right beside the man's doorway. And I knew."

"Why him?"

"I just know what the angel told me - that this man was guilty to his deepest foundations. And that was good enough for me."

* * *

Addison and Sam walk into the motel room to see Dean lying on the vibrating bed and listening to music on his phone. His eyes are closed. His head was moving in beat with the music. She rolls her eyes and walks over to him. "Dean," Addison says. He doesn't hear her, so she whacks him on the foot. "Dean!"

"Hey," Dean replies, taking the headphones out. Addison takes a seat on the other bed, placing her bag next to her. "You've gotta try this. I mean, there really is magic in the Magic Fingers."

"Dean...you're enjoying that way too much. It's kind of making me uncomfortable," Sam comments and Addison laughs.

"What am I supposed to do? You two got me on lockdown here, I'm bored out of my skull."

"I think you're forgetting about being a bank robber on the eleven o'clock news, Dean. So you walking into a government facility is a big no, no," Addison tells him as Sam walks into the bathroom.

"Hmm," Dean replies and sits up when the bed stops. "Aw, damn it. That was my last quarter. You got any quarters?"

"Let me look," Addison answers and grabs her bag, as Sam walks out of the bathroom.

"So, did you two get in to see that crazy hooker," Dean asks him.

"Yeah - Gloria Sytnik. And I'm not so sure she's crazy," Sam replies, taking a seat next to Addison.

"She seriously believes she was touched by an angel?"

"Yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward and she's totally at peace."

"Oh yeah, you're right. Sounds completely sane. What about the dude she stabbed?"

"Uh, Carl Gulley. Said she killed him 'cause he was evil."

"Was he?"

"I don't think so," Addison comments and Dean looks at her. "I couldn't find anything on him and he didn't have a criminal record. He worked at the campus library, had lots of friends, was a churchgoer. You know, a regular guy."

"So, then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, she wouldn't be the first nut job in history to kill in the name of religion, know what I mean?"

"No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't you think," Sam replies.

"Well, odd, yes. Supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so."

"Why not," Addison asks him.

"Cause there's no such thing, Ads," Dean counters and she rolls her eyes.

"There's way more lore about angels than there is anything else."

"Yeah, and you know what, there's a ton of lore on unicorns, too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams and they shoot rainbows outta their ass."

"Wait," Sam says, interrupting the argument. "There's no such thing as unicorns?"

"That's cute. I'm just saying, there's some legends that you file under 'bullshit.'"

"And you have angels on that list," Addison asks him.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because I've never seen one. And I believe in what I can see."

"Dean, we've all seen things that most people can't even dream about-"

"Exactly, with our own eyes, Addison. That's hard proof, okay? But in all this time, I have never seen anything that looks like an angel. And don't you think that if they existed, that we would have crossed paths or at least know someone that crossed paths with them? No. This is a demon or a spirit. They find people a few fries short of a Happy Meal and they trick them into killing these randoms."

"Maybe..."

"Can we just - I'm going stir crazy. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?"

"We were just there - nothing. No sulfur, no EMF," Sam tells him.

"You didn't see any fluffy, white wing feathers?"

"But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign. Right beside Carl Gulley's doorway."

"Could be something at his house. It's worth checking out," Dean replies and stands up.

* * *

They pull up to Carl Gulley's house and Addison pulls her coat closer when the cold winter air hits her as they walk up to the doorway. "Oh, hey. I think I found it." Dean points to a plastic angel sitting on the porch. "That's a sign from up above. Well I think I've learned a valuable lesson. Always take down your Christmas decorations after New Year's or you might get filleted by a hooker from God. Ha!"

"Some people are just busy, Dean, and can't find the time until to take down those decorations until March," Addison comments.

"You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundations," Sam says, as they walk to the back of the house.

"You think she literally meant the foundation," Dean asks. Addison shrugs. He pulls open the cellar door and the three of them walk down the stairs. Addison looks around the dark cellar and makes her way towards an area that wasn't being searched.

"Hey," Sam calls out. Addison and Dean walk over to him.

"What is that," Addison asks as Sam pulls something out of the wall.

"It's a fingernail," Sam answers and Dean grabs two shovels. Addison stands back and lets them dig until they find a skeleton. "So much for the innocent, churchgoing librarian." 

"Yeah, well, whatever spoke to Gloria about this knew what it was talking about. I'll give you that," Dean comments.

* * *

Addison waits until Dean closes the bathroom door and pulls her wallet out of her bag. She takes out a quarter and places it into the magic fingers coin slot. The bed starts vibrating and she lets out a moan as Dean exits the bathroom. "You had a quarter."

"Uh huh," Addison replies.

Dean crawls onto the bed next to her. "You have more quarters, right?"

"Uh huh." A silence falls over them and Addison slowly starts to fall asleep.

The bed stops vibrating when the door opens and Sam walks into the room. "Did you bring quarters," Dean asks him.

"You two are like those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies," Sam retorts. Addison reluctantly sits up, reaching over the side of the bed to grab her bag.

"Massage beds help relieve stress and have a variety of medical uses," Addison counters, yawning, sitting cross-legged on the bed as Dean sits up. "Besides we have news."

"Me too."

"All right, you go first," Dean tells him.

"Three students have disappeared off the college campus this year. All of them were last seen at the library."

"Same library where Carl Gulley worked," Addison asks Sam and he nods.

"Sick bastard," Dean comments.

"So, Gloria's angel-" Sam starts.

"Angel?"

"Okay, whatever this thing is-"

"Well, whatever it is, it struck again."

"What?"

"We were listening to the police radio earlier. This guy, Zach Smitt, went up to a stranger's door last night and stabbed a man in the heart," Addison replies.

"And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed," Sam asks.

"Yep. Roma Downey made him do it. Now, I," Dean starts out and Addison clears her throat. "Okay, fine. We got the victim's address."

* * *

Dean helps Addison enter the victim's house through the window before following after her. Addison and Dean search the house, while Sam had made his way over to the computer. They walk back into the room that Sam was in and he looks up from the computer. "Find anything?"

"Well, Frank liked his catalogue shopping that's about all we got," Dean answers, dropping a few catalogues on the table. "You?"

"Not much here. Except he's got this one locked file on his computer that I...hold on," Sam presses a few buttons and grins when the file unlocks. "Not anymore. God..."

"What?"

"All these e-mails. Dozens, to this lady named Jennifer...this lady who's thirteen years old."

"Ewe," Addison comments and Dean nods in agreement. "That's just...ewe!"

"Looks like they met in a chat room. These e-mails are pretty personal, guys. Look at that. Setting up a time and place to meet."

"Lovely."

"They were supposed to meet today."

"Huh. I guess if you're gonna stab someone...good timing. I don't know, this is weird. I mean, sure, some spirits are out for vengeance, but this one's almost like a do-gooder. Like a-"

"Avenging angel," Sam asks. Addison looks at Dean. "Well, how else do you explain it, Dean? Three guys, not connected to each other, all stabbed through the heart? At least two were world-class pervs and I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy-"

"Hey."

"What?"

Dean picks up a flyer from the desk. "You said Carl Gully was a churchgoer, right?"

“Yeah...why?" Addison asks him.

"What was the name of his church?"

"Our Lady of the Angels." 

"Of course that'd be the name," Dean comments and shows Addison and Sam the flyer. "Looks like Frank went to the same church."

* * *

"So, you're interested in joining the Parish," Father Reynolds asks them as they stand in Our Lady of the Angels church. It was a large cathedral church in downtown Providence, not far from where either of the victims lived.

"Yeah, we just don't feel right unless we hit church every Sunday," Dean answers and Addison exchanges a look with Sam.

"Where did you say you lived before?"

"Premont, Texas."

"Really? That's a nice town. St. Theresa's Parish, you must know the priest there."

"Sure, yeah. That's, uh, Father O'Malley."

"I know a Father Shaughnessy."

"Shaughnessy, exactly. What did I say?"

"We're just happy to be here, Father," Addison tells him.

"And we're happy to have you. We could use some young blood around here," Father Reynolds replies.

"Mm. Hey, listen, I've gotta ask you - no offense, but the neighborhood," Dean asks.

Father Reynolds sighs. "It's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that. But that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime, you work your butt off."

"Yeah, we heard about the murders."

"Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I've known them for years."

"And the killers said that an angel made them do that," Sam asks Father Reynolds.

"Yes, misguided souls. To think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic."

"So, you don't believe in those angel yarns, huh," Dean asks.

"Oh, no. I absolutely believe. It kind of goes with the job description."

"That painting, Father, that's Michael, right," Addison asks, motioning to the painting.

"That's right. The Archangel Michael with the flaming sword - the fight of demons, holy force against evil."

"And angels, they're not like what everyone thinks? Vigilant, right?"

"I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. 'An angel of the Lord appeared to them. The glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified,'" Father Reynolds quotes. Dean and Sam stare in confusion. "Luke 2:9."

* * *

"Well, thank you for talking with us, Father," Addison tells him as they make their way outside the church.

"It's my pleasure. I hope to see you again," Father Reynolds replies.

Dean notices the altar on the steps. "Hey, Father, what's all that for?"

"Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here."

"Was?"

"He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt."

"When did this happen?"

"Two months ago. He was shot for his car keys."

"I'm sorry," Sam states.

"Yes. Me, too. He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his Last Rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighborhood. Ever since he died, I've been praying my heart out."

"For what?"

"For deliverance from the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could just a little divine intervention, I suppose."

"Well, Padre, thanks. We'll see you again," Dean says and Father Reynolds nods, before walking back inside. Dean picks up a picture and shows it to them. "Now it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death - that's vengeful spirit material, right there. And he knew all the other stiffs because they all went to church here. In fact, I'm willing to bet because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew."

"Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening," Sam states and Addison lets out a sigh.

"Oh, come on man. What's your deal?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I'll admit, I'm a bit of a skeptic. But since when are you all Mr.  _700 Club_? Seriously from the get go, both of you have been willing to buy this angel crap. What's next? You're both gonna start paying everyday?"

"There's nothing wrong with praying everyday, Dean," Addison counters and he looks at her. "I do it everyday." Dean looks at Sam and he nods in agreement.

"The things you learn about people. Huh. Come on, let's go check out Father Gregory's grave," Dean replies and walks into the church. The three of them are silent as they make their way to the crypt. As Dean enters another room, one of the statues in the underground room begins to shake. Addison and Sam turn as a blinding white light glows in front of them.

* * *

"Sam, Ads, come on, get the lead out..." Dean walks back into the other room and sees them lying on the floor. "Sam! Addison!" Dean shakes them awake and Addison lets out a groan, sitting up as Sam does the same. "Hey! You two okay?"

"I'm fine," Addison replies and Sam nods, Dean helping them up.

They walk into the next room and Dean turns to them. "You both saw it, didn't you? Didn't you?"

"Yeah. Dean, I saw an angel," Sam tells him and Dean takes out a flask, holding it out to Sam. "I don't wanna drink." Dean turns to her and Addison shakes her head, causing him to shrug and take a drink.

"So...what makes you think you saw an angel?"

"This feeling washed over me and it was warm, peaceful...with a bright light," Addison answers.

"Okay, Ecstasy kids. Maybe I'll get you both some glowsticks and nice Dr. Seuss hats, huh?"

"Dean, we're serious. It spoke to us, it knew who we were," Sam tells him.

"It's just a spirit. And it's not the first one to be able to read people's minds. Let me guess, you were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just gotta wait for some divine Bat Signal, is that it?"

"That's about it," Addison replies.

"Great. I don't suppose either of you asked what this alleged bad guy did."

"Actually, I did, Dean. And the angel told me he hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will," Sam explains to Dean.

"Oh, this is just...I don't believe this."

"Dean, the angel hasn't been wrong yet! Someone's gonna do something awful and we can stop it!"

"You know, you're supposed to be bad too, Sam. Maybe I should just stop you right now."

"You know what, Dean, I don't understand! Why can't you even consider the possibility?"

"What, that this is an angel?"

"Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!"

"Okay, all right. You know what? I get it. You've both got faith. Hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that - Mom. She used to tell when she'd tuck me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me."

"You never told me that."

"What's to tell? She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her. There's no higher power, there's no God. There's just chaos and violence and random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere. It rips you to shreds. So, you want me to believe in this stuff? I'm gonna need to see some hard proof. Either of you got any," Dean asks them. Addison lets out a sigh, looking away. "Well, I do - proof that we're dealing with a spirit."

Dean leads them over to some graves and she frowns, looking at one grave. "Is that..." Addison starts to ask before he interrupts her.

"Wormwood - a plant associated with the dead, specifically the ones that are not at rest. I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him."

"Maybe," Sam states.

"Maybe?"

"Dean, I don't know what to think."

"Okay. You want some more proof. I'll give you more proof."

"How?"

"We'll summon Gregory's spirit."

"Seriously," Addison asks Dean and he nods. "You want to do a séance here, in the church?"

"If Father Gregory's spirit is around, the séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest."

"Yeah, but if it's angel, then nothing will happen."

"Exactly. That's one of the perks of the job, Addison. We don't have to operate on faith. We can know for sure. Don't you wanna know for sure?"

* * *

The three of them walk out of the local grocery store, after having brought different materials needed for the séance. "Dude, all right. I'll admit, we've gone pretty ghetto with spell work before, but this takes the cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of an altar cloth," Sam asks.

"We'll just put it Spongebob side down," Dean counters and Addison shakes her head in disbelief, stopping when she sees a bright light glowing around a man standing across the street.

"That's it," Addison says.

"What?"

"That's the sign," Sam answers.

"Where?"

"Across the street, behind that guy," Addison tells him and starts walking across the street with Sam, but Dean stops them.

"Wait a minute!"

"What are you doing? Let me go," Sam demands.

"You're not gonna go kill somebody because a ghost told you to. Are either of you insane?"

"Dean, we're not insane. We're not gonna kill him, we're just gonna stop him."

"Define 'stop,' huh? What are you gonna do," Dean asks as the man gets into his car.

"Dean, that man is going to hurt someone and you know it," Addison tells him and Dean stares at her for a moment.

"All right, come on," Dean replies and gets into the Impala as Addison and Sam try to get into the Impala, except the doors are locked.

"Dean, unlock the doors."

"You two aren't killing anyone. I've got this guy, you go do the séance," Dean says and Addison lets out a sigh as he drives away.

* * *

Addison and Sam are in the church crypt, sitting up the séance. Sam lights the candles and she takes a deep breath, reading the Latin from John's journal, sprinkling a powder one a candle that makes it spark. The door opens and Father Reynolds walks into the room. "What are the two of you doing? What is this?"

"Uh, Father, please. We can explain. Um..." Sam tells him, standing up. He looks at Addison, who had a guilty look on her face. He turns back to Father Reynolds. "Actually, maybe we can't. This is a séance."

"A séance? Young man, you are in the House of God."

"The séance is based on very early Christian rites," Addison weakly defends, standing up.

Father Reynolds grabs their arms. "Enough! You're both coming with me."

"Father, please, just wait..." Sam starts as a bright light fills the room and Addison lets out a disappointed sigh.

"Oh my God. Is that...is that an angel?"

"No, it's not. It's just Father Gregory," Sam answers as the light fades and they see Father Gregory standing there.

"Thomas?"

"I've come in answer to your prayers," Father Gregory says and turns to Addison and Sam. "Sam, Addison, I thought I sent you on your path. You should hurry."

"Father, I'm sorry, but you're not an angel," Addison softy tells him.

"Of course I am."

"No. You're a man. You're a spirit. And you need to rest," Sam tells Father Gregory.

"I was a man. But now, I'm an angel. I was on the steps of the church and I felt that bullet piece right through me. But there was no pain. And suddenly, I could see...everything. Father Reynolds, I saw you, praying and crying here. I came to help you."

"Help me how," Father Reynolds asks.

"With cleaning up the city."

"Those murders - that was because of you?"

"I received the word of God. He spoke to me, told me to smite the wicked. I'm carrying out His will."

"You're driving innocent people to kill."

"Those innocent people are being offered redemption," Father Gregory counters and looks at Addison and Sam. "Some people need redemption. Don't they?"

"How can you call this redemption?"

"You can't understand it now. But the rules of man and the rules of God are two very different things."

"But those people - they're locked up," Addison softly argues.

"No, they're happy. They've found peace, beaten their demons. And I've given them the keys to heaven."

"No, no," Father Reynolds says. "This is vengeance. It's wrong. Thomas, this goes against everything you believe. You're misguided."

"Father...no, I'm not misguided."

"You are not an angel, Thomas. Men can not be angels."

"But - but I don't understand. You prayed for me to come."

"I prayed for God's help, not this. What you're doing is not God's will. Thou shalt not kill. That's the word of God."

"Let us help you," Sam softly tells Father Gregory.

"No."

"It's time to rest, Thomas, to be at peace. Please...let me give you Last Rites," Father Reynolds begs and Father Gregory finally nods. "O, holy hosts above, I call upon thee as a servant of Christ to sanctify our actions this day, fulfillment of the will of God."

Father Reynolds does a cross across his chest and they watch as Father Gregory starts to flicker. "Father Reynolds?" 

"Rest. I call upon the Archangel Raphael, mast of the air, to make open the way. Let the fire of the Holy Spirit now descend, that this being might be awakened to the world beyond," Father Reynolds finishes and the bright light appears, surrounding Father Gregory. The light disappears and Addison blinks no longer seeing Father Gregory kneeling on the floor.

* * *

Addison sits up from the motel bed she was lying on when Dean walks into the room. "How was your day," Dean asks them and she shrugs but Sam lets out a sigh.

"You were right. It wasn't an angel, it was Gregory," Sam tells him and Dean takes a swig from a flask before handing it to Sam, who also takes a swig. "I don't know, I just...I wanted to believe so badly. It's so damn hard to do this...what we do. All alone, you know? There's so much evil out in the world, Dean, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up..."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about that, all right? We're watching out for you."

"Yeah, I know you guys are. But you're just two people. And I needed to think that there was something else watching, too, you know? Some...higher power, some greater good. And then maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe I could be saved. But, uh...you know, I just clouded my judgment and you're right. I mean, we've gotta go with what we know, with what's right there in front of our own two eyes."

"Yeah, well, it's funny you say that."

"Why?"

"Gregory's spirit gave you two some pretty good information. The guy in the car was bad news. I barely got there in time."

"What happened?"

"He's dead."

"You didn't..." Addison starts to ask.

Dean shakes his head. "No. But I'll tell you one thing...they way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I never would've believe it. I mean...I don't know what to call it."

"What'd you see?"

"Maybe...God's will," Dean answers after a moment and the three of them sit in silence.


	14. Born Under A Bad Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Addison pulls her peacoat closer as she sits in the Impala. She watches as Dean paces around outside in the light rain. Sam had been missing for about a week. And they had been looking for him ever since. She was worried about him. She was terrified that something horrible had happened, that Sam was lying somewhere injured or worse.

Addison shakes her head. She couldn't think like that. She had to be strong. If not for herself, but for Dean. She had to convince him at times to sleep, which wasn't easy since he didn't like her driving the Impala. She watches as Dean climbs into the driver's seat. "Ellen hear anything?” she asks.

“No." Dean answers, starting the Impala. "Sam called."

“What? Is he okay? Where is he?"

"Wisconsin and he says he's fine."

The drive was long and silent. They were both anxious to see Sam again. To make sure with their own eyes that he was okay. The motel they pull up in front of was in a small town in northern Wisconsin. Addison braces herself for the worse as they enter the motel room. Sam was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall. "Sam, hey.” Dean says walking over to him.

“Hey." Sam quietly greets them.

Addison closes the door behind her. Dean and her sit down on either side of Sam. His hands were covered in blood. "Are you bleeding?"

"I tried to wash it off."

Addison notices blood on Sam's shirt. “Sam." she whispers, pulling the front of his shirt up, but doesn't find an injury.

Sam looks up at her. "I don't think it's my blood."

"Whose is it?” Dean asks.

"I don't know."

"Sam, what the hell happened?"

"I...I don't remember anything."

Addison stands up and pulls Sam up. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” she softly says. She glances at Dean, then leads Sam into the bathroom. She unbuttons his shirt and pushes it off his shoulders. The motel door opens and closes, signaling that Dean had left. There was no blood on the t-shirt he wore. She pushes it up and Sam pulls it off.

"Ads." She looks up and finds him staring at her with an intense look. His hand cups her cheek. He leans down and his lips brush hers. As she kisses him back, Sam pushes her back until she hits the bathroom counter. His hand starts under her sweater, but she pulls back.

"I'm sure you got it from here.” Addison says, then quickly walks out of the bathroom. She stands there, confused at what had just happened.

* * *

Sam sits down next to Addison on the bed. She tentatively smiles at him. The moment in the bathroom between them had been replaying in her mind. She’d consider herself an idiot if she acknowledge that he was attractive. The door opens and she turns to see Dean enter with a large paper bag. "What'd you find out?” Sam asks, standing up.

"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora," Dean answers, putting the bag down. "Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan."

Addison rolls her eyes. "Dean."

"The room's been quiet. Nobody's noticed anything unusual."

"You mean no one saw me walking around, covered in blood," Sam questions.

"Yeah. That's what I mean."

"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?"

Addison stands up. She places a comforting hand on Sam's arm. "The most important thing, Sam, is that you're okay. We can deal with everything else."

Sam scoffs. ”Oh really, Ads? Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?"

"Sam," Dean begins.

"What if this is what Dad warned you about?"

Dean stands up. ”Hey, whoa, whoa. Come on, man, let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. And we've just gotta treat this like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?"

"Just the three of us...in that motel room in West Texas. I went out to grab some burgers and—"

"Sam, that was over a week ago," Addison says, sharing a concerned look with Dean.

"That's it. Next think I knew, I was sitting here — bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."

Dean nods. "Okay. Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and never saw you come back." He notices blood on the window sill. "Hey." Sam and Addison join him. She sighs, trying to ignore the pit in her stomach.

* * *

Addison watches as Sam look around the parking lot. He didn't seem to recognize anything. They pass a parking garage behind the motel, which Addison found weird that the small motel had in the first place. "Wait," Sam says, stopping.

"Remember anything," Addison asks.

"Not really, it just...feels familiar, you know," he explains. Sam points at the door with a '2' hanging on it. "Try that one. Yeah." He puts his hands in his jacket and feels something. He pulls out a key. "Wait."

Dean takes the key and unlocks the padlock. He pushes the door open. An old dark blue Volkswagen Beetle was sitting there. "Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this," he says. "I can understand Ads stealing it, but c'mon, Sam."

Both of them ignore him and start searching the car. Sam touches the steering wheel. He rubs his fingers. "More blood." Addison motions to the backseat. He picks up a bloody knife. "You think I used this on someone?"

"I'm not thinking anything."

Addison picks up a pack of cigarettes. "This — this couldn't have been you, Sam. You don't smoke. So, it wasn't you."

"Hey," Sam says, picking up a piece of paper. "Gas receipt — few towns over."

* * *

The three of them climb out of the Impala. The drive to the gas station had been quiet, each of them were lost in their own thoughts. “All right, the receipt's for ten gallons at pump number two," Dean reads, then shoves the receipt in his jacket. "You getting any goose bumps yet? God-this-looks-familiar, deja vu vibes?" Sam shakes his head. "Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on."

The second Sam enters the gas station, the clerk tenses up. "You, outta here! Now," the clerk exclaims. Addison and Dean exchange confused looks. "I'm calling the cops."

Addison motions to Sam. "Are you talking to him?"

"Yeah, I'm talking to him. Jerk comes in yesterday, stinkin' drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging."

"This guy," Dean asks, nodding at Sam. The clerk nods. Dean looks at Sam, who was confused. "You're drinking malt liquor?"

"Not after he whipped the bottle at my friggin' head."

Addison's eyes widen. "Are you sure that it was this guy?"

"What, am I speaking Urdu?"

"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything—" Sam begins

The clerk picks up the phone. "You know what? Tell your story walking, pal. Popo will be here in five."

"Okay, wait," Dean says. "He's leaving. He's leaving. Put the phone down. Sam, go wait in the car."

Addison grabs Sam's sleeve and pulls him out of the gas station. "I swear this whole thing is getting stranger by the second," she says. She stares at him for a moment. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I feel fine, Addison," Sam answers. He pulls her into a hug. Addison wraps her arms around him. She rubs his back.

A throat clears and they look to see Dean watching them. She rolls her eyes and steps away from Sam. "Don't let me interrupt," he amusedly says.

"You're such an ass, Dean," Addison comments, then climbs into the Impala. Sam sighs and climbs into the front seat while Dean shrugs.

* * *

The Impala speeds down the back county road. They had been waiting for Sam to say that something was familiar. Dean glances at his brother. The clerk's description of his behavior was troubling. "What's going on with you, Sam," he asks, breaking the silence. "Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people — that sounds more like me than you."

"Dean, wait," Sam says, ignoring the question. A dirt road was ahead on the right. "Wait, here. Turn down that road."

"What?"

"I don't know how I know, I just do." Dean shrugs and turns down the dirt road. They pass a sign saying 'private property; no trespassing.' They arrive at a house. It was small, with a wrap around porch. A motion sensor light turns on and Addison blinks. "Whoever lives here doesn't like surprises."

Addison walks up to the front door and knocks. Sam joins her on the porch. His hand brushes her back, causing her to glance at him. "Maybe no one's home," she suggests.

"Hey, guys," Sam calls.

They walk over to him. A window is broken, with glass on the ground. "I'm surprised the cops didn't show," Dean says. "A place like this, you'd think they'd have an alarm."

Sam opens a box on the side of the house. An electrical cord had been cut. "Yeah, you would."

Addison opens the front door and enters the house. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary. It was a normal house, complete with a few pictures hanging on the walls. They enter a dark office. The light from outside was casting a shadow in the room. Addison flips on the light. She gasps seeing a body. Part of the man's face was covered in blood, along with a dried pool of blood on the carpet.

"I did this."

Addison looks up at Sam. "Sam, we don't know that."

"What else do you need, Addison? I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood—"

"I don't know, man, why don't you tell me," Dean counters. "Look, even if you did do this, I'm sure you had a reason — self-defense, he was a bad son of a bitch, something." He kneels down and searches the man's body. "He didn't have any ID."

Sam jiggles the door knob on the closet. "I need your lock pick."

"What?"

"I need your lock pick."

Dean hands him the kit. Sam unlocks the door and slides it open. Guns where hanging on the walls. Maps and articles were scattered around a small desk. "Holy...either this guy's a Unabomber—"

"Or a hunter. I think I killed a hunter."

"Let's be sure," Addison says, motioning to the security camera in the corner. She walks over to the computer and after a couple of minutes, pulls the footage up. They watch as Sam enters the office and attacks the man. On screen, Sam drags the man across the room and grabs a knife out of the closet before slitting the man's throat. Sam wipes the blood on shirt. Addison stops the security footage. She looks up when Dean walks out of the room. Sam sits down in a chair at the desk. “Sam—"

"Don't."

Addison sighs and examines the articles in the closet as Sam searches the desk. Dean walks back into the room. He tosses her a rag and she starts to wipe off their prints. "How do you erase this," he asks, pointing to the computer screen. Sam remains quiet. "Sam, come on, we need your help."

"I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him."

"Listen to me. Whoever this guy, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are gonna come looking for his killer, which means we've gotta cover our tracks, okay?"

"His name was Steve Wandel. This is a letter from his daughter." Sam tosses the letter he was reading on the desk.

Addison shoves the computer off the desk. It was clear that Sam was too upset to do anything. She stomps on it, shattering it even more. She looks up and finds both of them staring at her in shock. "What?"

Dean shakes his head. He tosses a rag at Sam. "Wipe your prints, then we go."

* * *

The mood is somber as they enter the motel room. Addison shrugs off her coat and tosses it on the bed. Dean throws his jacket on the dresser. "Alright, we get a couple hours of sleep, then we put this place in our rearview mirror," he says. Sam sits down on the bed. He had been silent on the drive back. "Look, I know this is bad, okay? But you've gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something!"

"Just get some sleep and leaving the morning," Sam mocks. "Murder, Dean. That's what I did."

Addison shakes her head. She sits down next to him. "It could've been a shapeshifter."

"Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion."

"But it wasn't you, all right," Dean argues. "I mean, yeah, it might've been you, but it wasn't you."

"I think it was. I think maybe more than you know."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"For the last few weeks, I've been having — I've been having these feelings."

"Feelings," Addison questions.

"Rage...hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't wanna scare you."

Dean scoffs. "Well, bang up job on that."

"Dean, the Yellow-Eyed Demon — you know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before too."

"No one can control you but you."

"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean. It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm just becoming—"

"What?"

"Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean. I've gotta face up to who I am."

"I didn't mean this!"

"But it's still true! You know that! Dad knew that too! That's why he told you if it ever came to this—"

"Sam, stop," Addison interrupts. She shakes her head, trying to hold back the tears. "Just shut up."

"Dean, you promised him. You promised me," Sam continues.

"No," Dean tells him. "Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out, okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?"

"Yeah, there is." Sam grabs his gun from the weapons bag. He stands up and holds it out to Dean. "I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt either of you."

"Sam, you're not gonna hurt us," Addison says, standing up. Tears were streaming down her face. "You can fight this. You're gonna fight it."

"No, Ads. I can't. Not forever." Tears well up in Sam's eyes. "Here, you've gotta do it." Sam grabs Dean's hand and puts the gun in it.

"You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe," Dean begins.

"I know."

Dean stares at the gun. Addison shakes her head. "I can't. I'd rather die." He drops the gun.

"No. You'll live," Sam says, grabbing another gun from the bag. Addison steps back. Something was different about him. "You'll live to regret this." He hits Dean across the face with the gun, knocking him out. Addison lunges for the door, but he grabs her around the waist. Sam wraps an arm around her neck. Gasping for air, she claws at his arm. He loosens his grip when she goes limp.

* * *

Addison lets out a groan and opens her eyes. Everything was blurry. Her head hurt. She tries moving her arms, but feels pain in her shoulders and wrists. Moonlight was streaming into wherever she was. She closes her eyes, trying to block out the pain. A hand touches her face. Addison opens her eyes to find Sam above her. She remembered Sam knocking Dean out in the motel room, him choking her until she went unconscious. “Sam." she breathes. "Sam, what's going on?"

His lips touch hers, but she jerks away. Addison could sense that something wasn’t right. She had been feeling that way since he had kissed her earlier. Sam nuzzles her neck. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Addison," he murmurs.

He starts to unbutton her shirt. “Sam—" He silences her with another kiss. He finishes unbuttoning her shirt and pushes it to the sides. Addison could feel how hard he was. Sam pulls her bra down and his mouth closes around a nipple. "Sam." He grinds against her and she groans.

"Addison." She opens her eyes. Instead of his normal hazel eyes, jet black eyes greet her. Addison struggles to get him off, but the demon grabs her neck. "Anything you do to me, you do to Sam." Her eyes closes as he gropes her. "He's in here. Watching. Screaming for me to stop. And he's gonna watch me break you."

Addison looks at him. "Sam, you have to fig—" The demon slaps her. She feels her lip split. "Sam, fight it!"

The demon presses down on her wind pipe. She gasps for air. "Hate to break it to you, Ads, but Sam's not getting back in the control seat."

The demon releases his hold on her. She tries pushing him off, but he's too heavy for her. The demon punches her. He reaches between them and unbuttons her jeans. Addison screams, hoping that someone somewhere would hear here. Her jeans and panties are yanked down. Her head snaps to the side with the force of another punch. The demon starts to undo his pants and Addison closes her eyes, knowing that she was helpless against him. Something gets the demon's attention and he looks up. He punches her a couple more times and she passes out.

* * *

"Finally, something's going right.“ Dean murmurs, walking across the empty bar parking lot. The Impala was at the back of the parking lot. His left shoulder was in pain from the gunshot. But he ignored it. He starts the Impala and leaves the bar Jo was working at in the rearview mirror. A groan from the backseat catches his attention. He looks behind him. Addison was lying there. Her wrists here handcuffed to a door handle. Her shirt was unbutton and her bra was pulled down. Her jeans and panties are around her knees.

He pulls the Impala onto the side of the road. Dean climbs into the back seat, being mindful of Addison. Her right eye was swollen shut. Her lips was also swollen and there was dried blood on the corner of her mouth. "Ads? Ads! Addison!"

Her good eye opens. “Dean." Addison whispers.

"I'm here, Ads." He pulls her bra up and buttons a couple of buttons on her shirt.

Addison lifts her hips up as he pulls up her panties and jeans. "Arms hurt."

"I gotta get the lock pick kit. I'm going to open the door. Let you get some fresh air." Addison nods. Carefully, Dean opens the door and she crawls out.

He grabs the kit from the trunk and sets to work on the handcuffs. Her wrists are red. "Sam's possessed.” Addison tells him.

"I know. I tracked him to some bar that Jo's working at now."

"She okay?"

"Besides a couple of bruises, Jo'll be fine."

The handcuffs open. Addison winces as she slowly moves her shoulders. Dean wraps his good arm around her waist and helps her up. She sees him wince. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. We need to get to Bobby's." Once Addison's settled in the front seat, Dean climbs behind the wheel and they take off down the highway. His grip on the steering wheel tightens as a though flashes through his mind. “The demon didn’t..."

“No." Addison softly answers, shaking her head. "Not as far as I can tell."

* * *

Addison leans against the doorway. The demon was tied to a chair in the middle of Bobby's living room, directly underneath a devil's trap. Her face hurt. Her shoulders and wrists hurt. Him on top of her; his hands on her. She couldn't get rid of it. And she couldn't deny the small amount of satisfaction of seeing him tied up and unconscious. Dean slaps him, waking him up. “Dean." the demon greets, smirking. "Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach."

"How bout I smack that smart ass right outta your mouth," Dean counters.

"Oh, careful now. Wouldn't wanna bruise this fine packaging."

Addison takes a step forward. The demon leers at her. "Nothing we do will hurt Sam," she says. Dean throws some holy water on him and the demon screams. "How about you start talking?"

"Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his tongue."

"No, you won't be in him long enough," Dean replies. He turns to Bobby and nods. Bobby starts reading the exorcism. Dean leans down in front of the demon. "See, whatever bitch boy master plan you demons are cooking up, you're not getting Sam." The demon screams in pain. "You understand me? Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first."

The demon throws his head back and laughs. "You really think that's what this about? The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan." Dean nods at Bobby to continue reading. "Oops. Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks."

Addison frowns when the demon bows his head and chants in Latin. The room shakes. Papers fly around them. "Bobby, what's going on?"

Bobby walks over to the demon and pulls up the sleeve. A symbol is burned onto Sam's skin. "It's a binding link," he tells them. "It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside Sam's body!"

"What the hell do we do," Dean asks.

"I don't know!"

The ceiling cracks, breaking the devil's trap. "There. That's better." The demon jerks his head, throwing all three of them into the walls. Addison groans in pain as she sits up. The demon walks over to Dean. "You know, when people wanna describe the worse possible thing they say, 'It's like hell.'" The demon punches Dean. Addison slowly stands up. "Well, there's a reason for that. Hell is like - well, it's like hell. Even for demons." She glances at Bobby and seems him lying on a pile of books. "It's a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear. And you sent me back there."

"Meg," Dean states.

"No. Not anymore. Now, I'm Sam."

Meg punches Dean again. He presses down on Dean's injured shoulder and he groans in pain. "By the way, I saw your dad there. He says, 'Howdy.' All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day and that I was gonna torture you, nice and slow." Unnoticed, Addison makes her way to the fire place. "Like pulling the wings off an insect. But whatever I do to you, its nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean." Addison grabs a fire poker. "You're worthless. You couldn't save your dad. And deep down...you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you."

Meg goes to punch Dean once more, but Addison grabs his arm. She places the red hot fire poker on the binding link. Sam's mouth opens and a large cloud of black smoke flies out. The cloud goes out the fireplace. Addison lets go of Sam's arm and takes a step back. Sam looks around, confused. "Sam," Addison tiredly asks.

"Did I miss anything," Sam asks. Dean punches him, then leans back against the wall. Addison drops the fire poker, then walks over to Bobby.

* * *

Addison lets out a sigh of relief as the ice pack touches her face. Sam glances at her, a concerned look on his face. He had so many questions about what had happened, even through he had been filled on most of what happened. He looks at his brother. Dean's face was just as bruised. "By the way, you really look like crap, Dean,” Sam says.

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, right back at ya."

Bobby walk in, an unhappy look on his face. "Everything okay, Bobby," Addison asks.

"You three ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandel," Bobby questions.

The three of them shift in their seats. "Why do you ask," Dean finally replies.

"Just heard from a friend — Wandel's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that?"

Dean shakes his head. "No, sir. Never heard of the guy."

Sam sighs. “Dean.”

"Good. Keep it that way. Wandel's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up and they're not gonna slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?"

Dean nods, standing up. "We better hit the road."

"Here, take these."

Bobby hands them each a string with something on it. "What is it," Addison asks.

"Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon is still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in you."

"That sounds vaguely dirty, but thanks," Dean replies.

"You're welcome. You three be careful now."

"You too.” Sam says, then walks out. Addison and Dean place the ice packs on Bobby's desk, then follow him.

* * *

Sam watches as Addison walks out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He watches as she sits down on the nearest bed. Part of her face was a deep purple color as were the marks around her neck. "I was awake.” he quietly says. "I saw myself hurt you."

Addison shoots him a smile. "I know it wasn't you, Sam.” She awkwardly shifts. “Did you see…”

Sam knew exactly what she was talking. He remembered the feel of her lips against his; the feel of her body under his. “Yeah.”

“Right. Uh, yeah. Can we put this in the box of things we never talk about?”

“Yeah."


	15. Tall Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Addison lets out a heavy sigh and turns the page in the book she was reading. The three of them were sitting in a motel room. The bruises on her face had faded over the past couple of weeks, at least to the point where she could easily cover them up with makeup. Except that at that moment, the bruises were visible. "Something the matter, princess," Dean sarcastically asks her and she glares at him.

"Dude, you mind not eating those on my bed," Sam asks him. Addison rolls her eyes.

"No, I don't mind," Dean answers and takes another bite of the chili cheese fries that he was eating. "How's the research going?"

"You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster? If I had my computer," Sam comments. Addison turns the page in the book. "Can you turn that down, please?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Dean replies and turns the music up louder.

"You know what? Maybe you should just go somewhere for a while, huh?"

"Hey, I'd love to. That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell.” Dean counters, turning off the radio.

"How about the two of you shut up for five minutes?” Addison sarcastically asks them, as a knock comes from the door.

Addison turns back to her book as Sam gets up to answer the door. "Hey, Bobby."

"Boys, Addison," Bobby greets, walking to the room.

"Hey, Bobby," Addison replies. Dean glares at her. She glares back at him.

"It's good to see you again so soon."

"Yeah, thanks for coming. Come on in," Sam tells him. Bobby takes a seat on the empty bed.

"Thank God you're here," Dean comments.

"So, what didn't you wanna talk to me on the phone about," Bobby asks.

"It's this job we're working. We weren't sure you'd believe us," Sam explains.

"Well, I can believe a lot."

"Yeah, I know. It's just, we've never seen anything like it."

"Nothing remotely close," Addison interrupts.

"And we thought we could use some fresh eyes," Sam continues.

Bobby shrugs. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"Yeah, so it all started when we caught wind of an obit. See, a professor took a nosedive from a fourth-story window, only there's a campus legend that the building is haunted. So, we pre-texted as reporters from the local paper," Sam starts. Addison listens as he tells his side of the story, which included her drunkenly slapping some girl named Starla.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute," Dean interrupts.

"What?"

"Come on, dude, that's not how it happened."

"No? So, you never drank a purple nurple?"

"Yeah, maybe that. But I don't say things like 'feisty little wildcat.' And her name wasn't Starla."

"First of all, I wasn't drunk and second of all, I did not slap anyone," Addison tells him.

"Then what was it," Sam asks Dean.

"I don't know. But she was a classy chick. She was a grad student - Anthropology and Folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories," Dean replies and they listen as he tells his side, which still included Addison drunkenly slapping some girl.

"Right. And that's how it really happened," Sam counters and Addison rolls her eyes. "I don't sound like that, Dean!"

"That's what you sound like to me."

"How about you both shut up? Because that's not what happened," Addison angrily says and turns to Bobby. "This is what really happened."

_"Did you know Professor Cox," Addison asks Steve the bartender._

_"Not really, he came in a few times. Always ordered a beer," Steve replies, placing a beer down in front of a young man. "But that building, Crawford Hall, has the most screwed up legend about it. What will you have?"_

_"Uh...a cosmopolitan. What's the legend?"_

_"Apparently back in the seventies, a female student was having a affair with a professor. He ended things and out of despair, she jumps out of the window."_

_"What was the girl's name?"_

_"Don't know. The legend goes that she jumped from room 669 and haunts the building now. Anyone who sees her, doesn't live to tell the tale," Steve replies. He sets the cosmopolitan in front of her._

_"Thank for the information, Steve. How much do I owe for the drink?"_

_"It's on the house," Steve replies. Addison gives him a smile, grabbing her drink._

_She makes her way over to where Dean and Sam are standing. Addison takes a sip of the drink when she hears them arguing. "Listen, I think maybe we should go check out the professor's office," Sam says._

_"I think the good professor just took a wrong turn," Addison comments and takes another sip. "But, if you two want to look around, that's fine with me."_

_"Just let me finish this," Dean replies, holding up a shot glass with a purple liquid in it._

"Come on, Addison," Dean says and Addison glares at him. "That's not what happened."

"Yes it is. Your stupid brain spends forty-nine percent thinking about sex and the other fifty-one percent thinking about food," Addison retorts.

"Okay, what's going on with you three," Bobby asks Addison and Dean, as silence falls over the room. "Come on. You're bickering like an old married couple."

"No, see, married couples can get divorced. The three of us? We're like Siamese twins, with a giant leech and Sam's the leech," Dean replies.

"It's conjoined twins," Addison and Sam correct at the same time.

"See what I mean?"

"Look, we've just been on the road for too long, tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it," Sam tells the older hunter, who nods not believing him. "So, anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so went to check out the scene of the crime."

_"So, how long you been working here," Sam asks as the janitor lets them into Professor Cox's office._

_"I've been mopping this floor for six years," the janitor replies. Addison looks around the room when the lights come on. "There you go. What the heck's that for?"_

_Addison turns to see that Sam had taken out his EMF meter and quickly answers, "It's for finding wires inside the walls."_

_"Huh. Well, not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good."_

_"Why's that," Dean asks him._

_"He's dead."_

_"What happened to him," Addison asks._

_"He went out that window." The janitor points to the window behind the desk. "Right there."_

_"Yeah," Sam comments and the janitor nods. "Were you working that night?"_

_"I'm the one who found him."_

_"Did you see it happen?" Addison moves to stand next to Sam._

_"Nope. I just saw him come up here and, uh..."_

_"What?"_

_"He wasn't alone."_

_"Who was he with," Dean asks, mouth stuffed with candy._ Dean glares at Sam and Addison. ”Come on! I ate one, maybe two."

"You had like five," Addison counters.

"Just let me tell it, okay," Sam tells them and continues the story.

_"He was with a young lady. I told the cops about it, but I guess they never found her," the janitor answers._

_"You saw this girl go in, huh? But did you ever see her come out," Sam asks him._

_"Now that you mention it, no."_

_"Did you ever see her before or around campus," Addison asks._

_"Not her.”_

_"What do you mean," Dean asks, through a mouthful of food and Addison resists the urge to scold him._

_"I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but, uh...Mister Morality here? He brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat."_

_"One more thing. This building - it only has four stories, right," Sam asks._

_"Yeah."_

_"So, there wouldn't be a Room 669?"_

_"Of course not. Why do you ask?"_

_"Just curious. Thanks."_

_"Sure."_

* * *

_The three of them walk into the motel room and Addison takes a seat on the bed, Sam taking one at the small table. "Well, no traces of EMF, that's for sure," Sam comments._

_"Yeah and that Room 669 is a load of crap," Dean replies._

_"Maybe the professor was just a jumper," Addison suggests._

_"I don't know. I mean, the girl the janitor described - that's pretty weird," Dean responds and Addison nods. "We ought to check out the history of the building. See if any co-ed yanked herself there."_

_"Yeah, you're right," Sam agrees. He opens his laptop, only to find it frozen because of a bunch of pop ups. "Dude, were you on my computer?"_

_"No."_

_"Oh really? 'Cause it's frozen now on...bustyasianbeauties dot com," Sam angrily says. A guilty look crosses Dean's face before he disappears into the bathroom._

_"Dean," Addison scolds._

_"Would you just - don't touch my stuff anymore, okay," Sam tells him._

_"Why don't you control your OCD," Dean retorts and walks into the bathroom._

_"Can I use your computer?"_

_"Of course," Addison answers and pulls her computer out of her bag, handing it to Sam. He opens it and lets out a frustrated groan. "What?"_

_"I guess Dean doesn't know how to respect anybody's property," Sam answers and turns the computer to face her, revealing the same site that had been on Sam's computer._

_"Dean," Addison angrily shouts._

"But did you dig up anything about the building? Or on the suicidal co-ed," Bobby asks, looking between the three of them. They were sitting on the couch across from him.

"The building's history was clean," Addison answers.

"Then it's not a haunting."

"Maybe not. To tell you the truth, we're not really sure," Dean tells him.

"What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"Well...it's weird," Sam comments as Addison scoffs.

"What's weird?"

"This next part - we didn't see it happen ourselves, exactly, but...it's pretty fucking weird. Even for us," Dean answers and tells the story of how Curtis, the frat boy, was abducted by aliens.

"Aliens," Bobby disbelieving asks.

"Yeah," Sam replies.

"Aliens?"

"Yeah," Addison tells him.

"Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to Earth and swiping people."

"Hey, believe me, we know," Dean tells him.

"My whole life, I've never found evidence of an honest-to-God abduction. It's all just cranks and pranks."

"Yeah, that's what we thought. But we figured we'd at least talk to the guy," Sam replies.

_The three of them are sitting at a table in the bar, talking to Curtis, who was doing shots. "You've gotta give those purple nurples a shot," Dean tells him._

_Addison shoots him an annoyed look, then turns to Curtis. "Curtis, what exactly happened?"_

_"You won't believe me, nobody does," Curtis tells them._

_"Give us a chance," Sam replies._

_"I do not want this in the papers."_

_"Off the record, then," Dean says._

_Curtis nods. "I, uh, I blacked out and...I lost time, and when I woke up...I don't know where I was."_

_"Then what," Sam asks him._

_"They did tests on me, and um, they, uh, they probed me."_

_"Probed you," Addison disbelievingly asks. She glances at the boys and finds the same disbelieving looks on their faces._

_"Yeah. The probed me. Again and again and again and again and again and again and then one more time."_

_"Yikes," Dean comments._

_"And that's not even the worst of it."_

_"How could it get any worse? Some alien made you his bitch!"_

_Curtis glares at him. "They...they made me...slow dance!"_

Bobby looks between the three of them. He couldn't believe what they telling him. "You three are exaggerating again, huh?"

"No," the three of them say at the same time.

"Then this frat boy's just nuts."

"We're not so sure," Dean says.

_"I'm telling you, this was made by some kind of jet engine," Sam says. In front of Crawford Hall was a perfectly round circle of burnt grass. Students were walking around, glancing at the circle._

_"You mean some saucer-shaped jet engine," Dean replies._

_"What else could it be then," Addison counters._

_"What the hell," Dean asks and she shrugs._

_"I don't know," Sam answers._

_"No, seriously, dude, what the hell?"_

_"I don't know! I mean, first the haunting, now this? The timing alone - there's gotta be some kind of connection here."_

_"You mean, between the angry spirit and the sexed-up E.T.? What could the connection possibly be," Dean asks them._ "What could we do? So, we just kept on digging."

* * *

_"So, you and this guy, Curtis - you were in the same house," Sam asks one the guys that knew Curtis._

_"Yeah," he answers._

_"Did you hear what happened to him," Addison asks._

_"Yeah, he said there was aliens, but, you know - whatever."_

_"This has to be so hard to deal with."_

_"Not so much."_

_"I just want you to know, that I'm here for you. I feel your pain. Come here," Addison tearfully pulls him into a hug. "Everything will be okay."_

"Dean, I never said any of that," Addison tells him.

"You're always doing chick stuff like that, Addison," Dean counters and Addison glares at him.

_"Well, um...thanks. Thanks for the hug. But I'm okay, really," the student tells her. Addison nods, letting him go. "To tell you the truth, whatever happened to Curtis, he had it coming."_

_"Why's that," Dean asks him._

_"He's our pledge master. He put us through hell this semester and got off on it. So, now he knows how we feel."_

_"Hmm," Dean replies and Addison wraps her arms around the student once more. The student's eyes go wide when Sam joins in on the hug._

* * *

_The three of them walk into the motel room. Addison rolls her eyes seeing Dean's socks in the sink. "This still doesn't make a lick of sense. But hey, at least there's one connection," Dean says._

_"What's that," Addison asks, taking a seat on the bed, while Sam goes to find his laptop._

_"The victims. The professor and the frat guy - they're both dicks."_

_"Is that really a connection through?"_

_"You got anything better to go on, I'd love to hear it."_

_"Where's my laptop," Sam demands. Addison shrugs._

_"I don't know," Dean answers. "I mean, think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl, a pledge master gets hazed—"_

_"I left it in here."_

_"Well, you obviously didn't. I mean, these punishments - they're almost poetic. Actually, it'd be more like a limerick, but still—”_

_"Okay. Hilarious. Where'd you hide it?"_

_Dean frowns. "What, your computer?"_

_"Yeah. Where'd you hide it?"_

_"Why would Dean take your computer, Sam," Addison asks him and he glares at her. "He has no reason to."_

_"You always take Dean's side on this. No else could have taken it. We keep the door locked, we never let any maids in," Sam tells her._

_"Hey, leave her out of it. Besides, looks like you lost your computer, Poindexter," Dean replies._

_"Dude, you know something? I've put up with a lot from you."_

_"What are you talking about? I'm a joy to be around."_

_"You keep your nasty ass socks in the sink," Addison exclaims._

_"And your food in the fridge," Sam tells him._

_"What's wrong with my food?"_

_"Well, first of all, it's disgusting," Addison comments. Sam nods in agreement, while Dean glares at both of them. "It's like it's evolving or something. It's nasty, Dean."_

_"I like it."_

_"And you know what, all I ask from you, the one thing is that you don't mess with my stuff," Sam continues._

_"You done?"_

_"You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?"_

_"It'd be the last thing you ever did."_

"Did you take his computer," Bobby asks Dean.

"It serves him right, but no," Dean honestly answers.

"Well, I didn't lose it. 'Cause I don't lose things," Sam comments. Addison rolls her eyes.

"Oh, that's right. Yeah, cause he's Mister Perfect."

"Okay, okay. Why don't you just tell me what happened next," Bobby asks, stopping the argument.

"There was one more victim," Dean answers.

"Yeah, but we didn't actually see it. It was easy to put together from the evidence. But the victim was a research scientist, more specifically animal testing," Addison says.

"Yeah, you know, a dick. Which fits the pattern. The cops didn't release a cause of death because they had no clue what the cause was."

"So, we checked it ourselves," Sam continues.

_Dean helps her as Addison crawls through the window into the morgue, where he and Sam already were. They walk over to the wall and Dean pulls out the drawer. "Well, this ought to be quick," he comments and pulls off the sheet, revealing a couple of bloodied body parts. "Okay, that is just nasty."_

_"Looks like something ate him or mutilated him," Addison replies._

_"They identify him yet?"_

_"Yeah, a research scientist at the college. Guess where his office was, by the way," Sam says._

_"Where," Addison asks him._

_"Crawford Hall, same as the professor."_

_"That's right where the frat boy had his close encounter," Dean says and Addison nods._

_"Hey, grab me that thing, would you," Sam asks, pointing to the microscope. Dean wheels over to him. "Thanks."_

_"What is it?"_

_"It looks like a — a belly scale?"_

_"Let me see," Addison demands. Sam moves aside and she looks at the scale. "It's not possible, is it?"_

_"What kind of belly scale," Dean frustratingly asks._

_"An alligator maybe."_

_"An alligator in the sewer? Come on."_

_"It's a classic urban legend, Dean. Kid in a huge city, mainly New York, flushes a baby alligator down the toilet and it grows up in the sewer system."_

_"Yeah, but no one's really ever found one. They're not real."_

_"Well, neither is an alien abduction. But something jumped on this guy," Sam counters._

_"This couldn't get weirder."_

_"Yeah, maybe we should get some help. I'll call Bobby. Maybe he's run into something like this before."_

_Dean scoffs. "Oh, I'm sure he has. It's just your typical haunted campus, alien abduction, alligator-in-the-sewer gig. Yeah, it's simple.”_

"We decided to search the sewer anyway. So, we split up, Dean and Addison, taking one end of campus, me taking the other," Sam explains.

"Did you find anything," Bobby asks them.

"Yeah, we found something. Just not in the sewer," Dean answers.

_Addison climbs out of the manhole and moves out of the way for Dean. He climbs out and replaces the manhole before they head over to the Impala, that had no air in the tires. "Son of a bitch," Dean shouts and she watches as he walks around. "Sam!"_

_"Do you really think Sam let the air out of the tires," Addison asks and Dean stares at her. "I'm just saying."_

_"Well, here's his damn money clip. He must have dropped when he let the air out of the tires."_

_"Can't you just put more air in them?"_

_"I bet you and Sam were in on this together-"_

_"You know what, I don't have to stand here and listen to you blame me for something that I didn't do," Addison tells him. She searches her bag that was sitting in the front seat for her cosmetic bag. "I'm gonna kill Sam."_

_"And why is that?"_

_"Because he took my makeup.”_

* * *

_Addison and Dean storm into the motel room where Sam was reading. She grabs the book out of his hands. "Where is it," Addison angrily demands._

_"What are you talking about," Sam asks, confused._

_"You took my makeup. Now I want it back."_

_"I didn't take your makeup."_

_"You let the air out of the tires, which you can't do because it's gonna bend the rims, you idiot," Dean shouts at him._

_"I didn't go near your car, Dean, and I didn't take your makeup, Addison."_

_"Oh, yeah?" Dean pulls out Sam's money clip, with money still in it. "Huh. Then how'd I find this?"_

_"Hey, give me back my money."_

_"Oh, no. Consider it reparations for emotional trauma," Dean tells him. Sam reaches for the money, but Dean keeps it out of his grasp. Addison rolls her eyes and watches as they wrestle for the money after falling on the bed._

_"You guys are idiots," Addison comments. She grabs the money Dean was holding, but he pushes Sam off of him and tackles her to the other bed._

"Okay, I've heard enough," Bobby interrupts, stopping the story.

"Anyway, you showed up about an hour after that," Dean finishes.

"I'm surprised at you three. I really am. Sam, first off — Dean did not steal your computer. And Dean, Sam did not touch your car."

"Yeah," Sam says in agreement.

"But one of them took my makeup," Addison angrily tells him.

"Shh! Addison, neither of them did not take your makeup and if the three of you had bothered to pull your heads out of your asses, it would've been pretty clear."

"What," Dean asks.

"What you're dealing with."

"Uh..." Sam looks at her and Addison shrugs.

"I've got nothing," Dean comments after a moment.

"Me neither."

"You've got a Trickster on your hands," Bobby clarifies.

"That's what I thought," Dean replies, snapping his fingers.

"No, you didn't," Addison counters and Dean glares at her.

"But I've gotta tell you - you three were the biggest clue," Bobby continues, ignoring their remarks to each other.

"What do you mean," Sam asks him.

"These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing. And it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight."

"The laptop," Sam reasons.

Dean nods. "The tires."

"My makeup," Addison states.

"It knows you're onto him. And it's been playing you like fiddles," Bobby finishes.

"So, what is it? A spirit? Demon? What," Dean asks.

"Well, more like demigods, really. There's Loki in Scandinavia, there's Anansi in West Africa - dozens of them. They're immortal and they can create things out of thin air. Things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick."

"You mean, like an angry spirit or an alien or an alligator?"

"The victims fit the M.O. too. Tricksters target the high and mighty - knock 'em down a peg, usually with a sense of humor. Deadly pranks, things like that."

"Bobby, what do these things look like?"

"Lots of things. But human, mostly."

"And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time," Dean asks Addison and Sam. She lets out a frustrated sigh when she realizes who he was talking about.

* * *

The next morning, the three hunters follow the Trickster up the stairs. "Sorry, I'm dragging a little ass today. Had quite the night last night," he tells them. "Lots of sex, if you catch my drift." Addison shakes her head in disbelief.

"Yeah, hard not to. Listen, we won't be long. We just need to check a couple of offices up on three," Dean replies.

"No problem."

"Oh, damn. I forgot something in the truck. You know what, I'll catch up with you guys," Sam tells them and Addison nods, as they continue to follow the trickster.

* * *

"Just because he reads the Weekly World News doesn't mean he's our guy. I mean, you read it, too, Dean," Sam says as they walk out of Crawford Hall.

"I'm telling you, it's him," Dean replies.

"Look, I just think we need some hard proof, that's all."

"Bobby did say that they have a super sweet tooth," Addison comments.

"Well, I didn't find any candy bars or sugar. Not even Equal."

"Yeah, it's probably cause you missed something," Dean counters and Addison rolls her eyes.

"I don't miss things."

"Oh, right, cause you're Mister Perfect."

"What? Are you really still pissed at me because of what the Trickster did?"

"Oh, come on, man. You've been a tight-ass long before that Trickster showed up."

"Look, just stay here, keep an eye on the janitor. Me and Addison will go to his place, see if we can find any actual evidence before you go barging in and staking the man. Just wait till we get back, okay?"

"Mmm."

"Dean," Addison starts and he throws up his hands.

"Okay, fine," Dean shouts and she and Sam walk off.

* * *

Addison, Sam, and Bobby walk into the lecture room, each holding a stake, seeing the Trickster standing in front of Dean. She rolls her eyes when she sees the disco ball, the heart bed, and the women standing on the stage. "That fight you guys had outside - that was a trick? Hmm...not bad. But you wanna see a real trick," the trickster asks and a chainsaw sounds in the room. Addison and Sam barley dodge the chainsaw from the man and she makes her way down the stairs, where the blonde woman punches her.

Addison staggers back, but quickly regains her balance and punches her back. The blonde tackles her to the ground and she winces as she hits the stairs, dropping the stake she was holding in the process. The blonde punches her once again and grabs her hair. Addison rolls them over and punches the blonde. "Don't pull my hair you stupid bitch," she says and pulls the woman's hair to bang her head against the stairs. The woman disappears and she falls to the ground, a wave of dizziness setting in.

Sam jogs over to where she was sitting. Their friendship was slowly improving. While Addison didn't seem to scared of him, she still kept her distance. And none of that stopped him from being concerned about her. "You okay," he asks and Addison blinks, seeing more than one Sam.

"Uh...ask me after there's only one of you," Addison replies and reaches out to the left of him. Sam chuckles and helps her up.

"She okay," Bobby asks as he and Dean walk over to them.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Sam replies and they walk out of the building. "Bobby, thanks a lot, we really couldn't-"

"Hey, save it. Let's just get the hell out of Dodge before somebody finds that body."

"Yeah. Look, Dean, Ads, um, I just wanna say that I'm, um..."

"Hey. Me, too," Dean replies and Addison blinks.

"Can we go so I can stop seeing four versions of everything.” Addison says, looking for the door of the Impala. Sam opens the back and helps her in. After he climbs in the front seat, they drive away from the campus.


	16. Roadkill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison yawns as she pulls her peacoat closer. The heat was on full blast in the Impala as they drove a county road in the snowy mountains of west Nevada. They had been driving since the sun went down, searching for the spirit that haunted the road. A woman suddenly appears in the middle of the road. She had dark blonde hair and pale skin. "Holy shit!” Dean exclaims, slamming on the breaks. He stops inches away from the woman.

The woman runs over to the passenger side. "You've gotta help me. Please!” she yells, hitting the window. "Please!"

Sam rolls down the window. “All right, calm down. Tell us what happened."

"I swerved and we crashed and when I came to...the car was wrecked, my husband was missing. I went looking for him, but that's when the man from the road — he started chasing me."

"Did he look like he lost a fight with a lawnmower," Dean asks.

A shocked look appears on the woman's face. "How did know that?"

Dean shrugs. "Lucky guess."

"Ma'am, what's your name," Sam asks.

"Molly. Molly McNamara," Molly answers.

Addison glances at Dean. "Molly, I think maybe you should come with us," Sam tells her. "We'll take you back into town-"

"I can't. I have to find David, he might've gone back to the car."

"Well, we should get you somewhere safe first and then we'll come back here. We'll look for your husband-"

"No, I'm not leaving here without him. Would you just take me back to my car, please?"

They look at each other. "Of course. Come on."

Addison pushes open the back door, then scoots over behind Dean. She smiles at Molly. They drive down the road until Molly tells Dean to stop. They climb out of the Impala. Molly walks to the side of the road. "It's right over there." Nothing was there. "I don't understand. I'm sure this is where it was. We hit that tree right there. This doesn't make any sense."

"Guys, we've gotta get out of here," Sam whispers. "Greeley could show up at any second."

"What are you gonna tell her," Dean counters.

"The truth."

Addison scoffs. "Yeah, that'll go over real well."

Molly walks back over to them. "I know it sounds crazy, but I crashed into that tree. I don't know who could've taken it. It was totaled. Please, you have to believe me."

"Molly, listen, we do believe you, alright," Sam reassures. "But that's why we wanna get you out of here."

"No. What about David? Something must've happened. I have to get to the cops."

"The cops, you know what, that's a great idea," Dean says. "In fact, we'll take you down to the station ourselves, okay? So, just come with us. It's the best way we can help you and your husband." Molly tearfully nods and they climbs into the Impala.

"It's gonna be okay," Addison softly tells Molly.

Molly sighs. "We're supposed to be in Lake Tahoe."

"You and your husband?"

Molly nods. "It's our five year anniversary."

"Hell of an anniversary," Dean comments.

"Right before, we were having the dumbest fight. That's the only time we ever really argue, when were stuck in the car."

Addison smiles. "I know how that is." Sam laughs at the glare Dean sends her in the mirror.

"You know the last thing I said to him? I called him a jerk. Oh, God. What if that's the last thing I said to him?"

Sam turns around in the seat. "Molly...we're gonna figure out what happened to your husband. I promise."

A song suddenly starts playing on the radio. Dean glances at Sam. "Did you..."

"No."

"Great. I was afraid you'd say that."

"This song..." Molly trails off.

"What?"

"It was playing when we crashed." The three of them exchange a look. The song goes off and there's a static voice. Addison frowns. "What is that?"

The four of them see a man standing in the middle of the road. "Hold on," Dean orders, stepping on the gas.

"What are you doing?!" They drive through the man and he vanishes in a cloud of smoke. "What — what the hell just happened?"

"Don't worry, Molly, everything's gonna be alright," Sam tells her.

A rumble comes from the engine. "You spoke too soon, Sam," Addison comments.

Dean pulls over. He tries restarting the Impala, but nothing happens. "I don't think he's gonna let her leave."

They climb out of the car. Addison shrivers and pulls her coat closer. "This can't be happening," Molly sighs.

"Well, trust me. It's happening," Dean tells her, popping open the trunk.

Molly starts backing away after she sees the weapons. "Well, okay. Thanks for helping, but I think I've got it covered from here."

Sam goes after her. "Molly, wait a minute."

"Just leave me alone."

"No, please, you have to listen to me."

"Just stay away!"

"It wasn't a coincidence that we found you, alright?"

Molly stares at him. "What are you talking about?"

"We weren't passing through when we ran into you," Addison answers. She takes a deep breath. "We were hunting."

"Hunting for what?"

"Ghosts," Dean answers.

A defeated look appears on Sam's face. "Don't sugar coat it for her."

"You're nuts," Molly says, taking a step back.

"Really," Dean argues. "About as nuts as a vanishing guy with his guts spilling out." Molly remains silent. "You know what you saw.

"We're pretty sure that his name is Jonah Greeley," Addison explains. "Fifteen years ago, a local farmer died on this highway. The farmer was Greeley."

"Just stop," Molly demands.

"Every year, on the anniversary of his death, he haunts this road. Its why we're here. To stop him."

"Now, I suppose this ghost made my car disappear too?"

"Crazier things have happened," Dean says.

"You know what? I'm all filled up on crazy. I'm gonna get the cops myself."

"I don't mean to be harsh, but I don't think you're gonna get too far."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that Plan A was trying to get you out of here. Obviously, that didn't go over too well with Farmer Roadkill."

Molly stares at them. "Molly, we're telling the truth," Sam tells her. "Greeley's not gonna let you leave this highway."

"You're - you're serious about this, aren't you," Molly asks, looking between the three of them.

"Deadly," Dean honestly says.

"Every year, Greeley finds someone to punish for what happened to him," Sam explains. "Tonight, that person is you."

"Why me," Molly asks. "I didn't do anything."

"Doesn't matter. Some spirits only see what they want."

"So, you're saying this Greeley - he took my husband?" They remain silent. "Oh, God."

"Molly, look. We're gonna help you, alright? But first, you've gotta help us."

"Help you? How?"

* * *

Addison stares at the small cabin. In the moonlight, she couldn't see much of the cabin, but she could tell that no one had been there for a long time. Molly had led them through the woods. "This is it," Molly says as the enter the cabin. It was one room, with a table in the middle. Knives and hooks were hanging on the walls. "This is where I saw him."

"Must have been his hunting cabin," Dean states, looking around. "Huh. Seemed like a real sweet guy."

Sam walks into the cabin. "No markers or headstones outside."

"You're looking for Greeley's grave," Molly asks.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"We gotta dig up the corpse," Addison says. "Then we salt and burn it."

Molly humorlessly laughs. "Oh. Sure, naturally."

"It's a way to get rid of a spirit," Sam explains.

"So, how do we find it?"

"Uh, not sure. After Greeley died, his wife claimed the body and that's the last anyone saw of her. So, good guess she brought him back here, but they had a thousand acres and he could be buried anywhere on them."

"So, this really what you guys do. You're like Ghostbusters."

Addison smiles. "Without the nifty jumpsuits and proton packs."

"Look, lady, this is a fascinating conversation and all," Dean begins. "But this highway's only haunted once a year and we've got till sun up to wrap this thing up, so what do you say we move it along, okay? Great."

Addison rolls her eyes and follows Dean outside. She smacks his arm. "Why do you gotta be a jerk?"

"What are we looking for," Molly asks, joining them.

Sam closes the door to the cabin. "Greeley's house. Maybe he's buried there. Look for roads or paths or something. Stay close."

"Yeah, okay."

They split up to search the woods. Addison and Dean go one way while Sam and Molly go a different. Molly hears something and goes in that direction. Greeley appears in front of her. She screams when he grabs her arms. Dean shows up and shoots Greeley with rock salt as Sam and Addison show up. "Hey," Sam calls out. "Are you alright?"

"What has that son of a bitch down with my husband," Molly angrily demands.

"Just take it easy, alright? You're gonna see David again. You will."

"Guys," Addison shouts. They jog over to her and she points out the dark bricks.

"Follow the creepy brick road," Dean comments.

Addison shakes her head as they walk down the path. Dean smacks her arm. "What was that for?"

"For earlier."

"You're worse than a five year old."

They arrive at an old house. It was much bigger than the cabin, but just as broken down. There was a front porch with old chairs. "You know, just once, I'd like to round the corner and see a nice house." Addison shrugs and walks into the house.

Cobwebs and dusty white sheets covered the majority of everything. The door opens and Addison turns to see Sam and Molly walk in. Dean comes in after them. "Any headstones outside," Sam asks.

Dean scoffs. "Yeah, right. Is it ever that easy?"

"I guess not."

Dean motions to the staircase. "You two check upstairs. See if you can find any notes or records telling us where he's buried. Me and Ads will check down here." Addison walks into the kitchen. She pulls open a drawer and sneezes. Dean walks into the room. "Find anything?"

"No," Addison answers. She sighs and leans against the counter. "I hate this case."

He walks over to her. She silently watches him. Dean reaches up and grabs a leaf out of her hair. "C'mon, let's see if Sam found anything." He starts towards the stairs, then turns back to her. "You coming?"

They find Sam and Molly sitting in an old bedroom. Molly was holding a photo album and looking through. "Well, they weren't evil people," Sam says. "A lot of them were good. Just...something happened to them. Something they couldn't control."

"Sammy's always getting a little J. Love Hewitt when it comes to things like this. Me? I don't like them. And I sure as hell ain't making apologies for them. There's nothing downstairs. You find anything?"

"Just about every piece of mail or receipt they ever had. I looked through a couple, but nothing about a grave so far."

Addison walks over to a dresser. "Hey, there's something over here." Dean joins her and they push it out of the way. A small door was there. She pushes at it. "It's looked on the inside."

Dean kicks at it, but nothing happens. He kicks it a second time and it opens. The four of them crawl through the door and arrive in a attic. "It smells like old lady in here." He smirks and picks up a dead spider. "Ads." She turns and he throws it her.

Addison screams and jumps. As she's brushing it off of her, she trips over a chair. Her gaze widens seeing the corpse hanging from the ceiling. "Guys!" Sam sends Dean an unamused look and walks over to her. He helps her up, being careful of the corpse. "I found Mrs. Greeley."

"Well, now we know why nobody ever saw her again."

"She didn't wanna live without him," Molly says.

"Dean, give me a hand," Sam demands, picking up the chair Addison had tripped over.

"Really," Dean disbelievingly asks.

"What are you gonna do," Molly questions.

"We can't leave her like this," Sam counters.

Addison shakes her head and climbs into the seat. "She was a person, Dean. She deserves to be put to rest. Now, give me a knife."

* * *

Molly looks up when Addison sits down on the steps next to her. Addison lightly smiles at her. It was easier for her to remained positive in the middle of everything. And while Molly was having trouble at times, she remained positive that she would see her husband. "So, if you manage to put Greeley to rest too...what happens to him?"

"Lady, that answer is way beyond our pay grade," Dean replies, pouring lighter fluid in the grave.

Molly frowns. "You hunt these things but you don't know what happens to them?"

"Well, they never come back. That's all that matters."

"After they let go of whatever's keeping them here, they just go," Sam clarifies. "I hope someplace better, but we don't know. No one does."

"What happens when you burn their bones," Molly asks.

"My dad always said it was our job to help them let go so that they could go to Heaven," Addison tells her. "Ghosts...they're scared. And they need help to move on."

"The only thing I'm scared of is losing David. I have to see him again."

Addison shoots her a supportive smile. "You'll see David again."

* * *

Addison yawns and puts her feet in Dean's lap after she sits down in a chair next to him. They were searching the house for a second time, hoping to find a clue as to where Greeley was buried. Sam walks over to them. "I think we should tell her about her husband."

"We can't," Dean counters.

"Dean, it's cruel, letting her pine for him like this. I don't like keeping her in the dark."

"Sam," Addison softly begins. "I hate it too. But we came up with a plan and we're going to stick with it. We'll get her out of here and then we'll tell her."

"Tell me what," Molly demands, entering the room. "What aren't you telling me?" The three them avoid looking at her. "It's about David. You know what happened to him."

"Molly-" Sam starts.

"Sam, don't," Dean tells him.

"Don't what," Molly asks. "Don't tell me because I'll mess up your hunt? You don't care about me or my husband."

"That's not true," Sam argues.

"Really? Then whatever it is, tell me, please." They exchange a look. Sam starts to open his mouth. The same song that was playing the Impala starts playing. "He's coming.

Dean pushes Addison's feet off and stands up. "Stay with her."

Addison grabs a shotgun filled with rock salt out of the duffel bag Dean had left. She cocks it as her gaze goes around the room. She walks over to back door and looks out the window. A window breaks and she turns to see Molly dragged out by Greeley. "Dean," Sam shouts. "He's got Molly!"

The three of them search the woods, looking for any sign of Molly or Greeley. But don't any thing. "This guy is persistent," Dean comments as they walk back into the house.

"We've gotta find Molly."

"And Greeley's bones," Addison adds.

"No pressure or anything, but we've got less than two hours before sunrise," Dean tells him.

Sam picks up the photo album that Molly had put on the table earlier. "Hey." There was a picture of Greeley and his wife standing in front of the hunting cabin.

"February 6, 1992," Dean reads. "That's, like, two weeks before the accident, wasn't it?"

"That's the hunting cabin," Addison states.

Realization comes over Sam's face. "Should've thought of it."

"What?"

"It's an old country custom - planting a tree as a grave marker."

Dean stares at his younger brother. "You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness. 

Sam shrugs and puts the photo album back down. "Yeah. I know."

* * *

Addison looks in the window of the hunting to see Molly hanging from the rafters. Greeley was torturing her. The boys were on either side of her. "Dean, go get Molly," Sam says. Dean nods and walks into the cabin. Sam and Addison grab the shovels and other gear before walking over to the tree.

"I hate digging," Addison complains. Together, they're able to get the hole quickly dug. A dirty sheet stands out against the dirt. "Hello, Mr. Greeley." Sam pours gasoline and salt on the bones. Addison lights a match book and drops in the hole. They stand there, watching the flames.

Dean walks out of the cabin, with Molly behind him. After the flames go out and they rebury the grave, the four of them walk back to where the Impala was parked on the highway. "Oh, baby, it's been a long night."

"Let's get you out of here," Sam tells Molly.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to my husband," Molly angrily says. "All this time, I've been looking for him and you knew...you knew that Greeley killed him, didn't you? He's dead?"

"Molly, David's alive," Addison tells her.

Molly stares in shock. "What? You're sure?"

"We're sure," Sam replies. "We'll take you to him. Come on."

The drive to where David's at is silent. They were all lost in their thoughts. Molly was thinking about how happy David would be to see her, while the other three were having sad thoughts for Molly. They arrive at a house. Sam motions to it. "He's in that house right there."

Molly frowns. "I don't understand." Addison sadly smiles and they climb out. They watch as a man in pajamas pours a cup of coffee. "That's not...it can't be." A dark haired woman walks in and David kisses her. "What's happening? Who is that?"

"David's wife," Addison softly tells her. "Molly...fifteen years ago, you and your husband hit Jonah Greeley with your car. David survived the crash."

"What are you saying?"

"We're saying that there isn't just one spirit haunting Highway 41, there are two - Jonah Greeley and you," Dean says.

"For the past fifteen years, one night a year, you've been appearing on that highway," Sam says.

"No, that's not possible," Molly says. "It was our anniversary. February 22-"

"1992."

"Yes."

"It's 2007, Molly," Addison gently tells her.

Tears are in Molly's eyes. "Oh, God. And Greeley?"

"Each year, he punishes somebody for his death," Sam explains. "Chasing them, torturing them. And each year...that somebody is you."

"But I don't remember any of it."

"Because you couldn't see the truth, Molly."

"So, that's why he won't let off the highway. Because I - I killed him. I killed us both. Why didn't you tell me when you first saw me? Why wait until now?"

"You wouldn't have believed us," Dean says.

"And you needed me for bait?"

"Well, we needed you," Sam corrects.

"David..."

"Molly, we brought you here so you could move on."

"No. I have to tell him."

"Tell him what," Addison questions. "That you're sorry? That you love him? He already knows that, Molly. But, hey, if you want to go in there, then we're not gonna stop you."

"Yeah, but you are gonna freak him right out," Dean argues. "For life."

"He's already said his goodbyes. Now, its your turn."

"This is your unfinished business," Sam tells her.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Just...let go of David. Of everything. You do that, we think you'll move on."

"But you don't know where?"

"No," Addison breathes. "Molly, haven't you suffered long enough? Its time to go."

Molly nods and walks past them. A bright light surrounds her and she's gone. "I guess she wasn't so bad," Dean say after a couple of minutes. "For a ghost. You think she's really going to a better place?"

"Yeah. Hopefully."

"I guess we'll never know. Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?"

"It doesn't really matter, Dean," Sam softly says. "Hope's kind of the whole point."

Dean slaps his shoulder. "Alright, Haley Joel. Let's hit the road." Addison smiles at Sam, then goes after Dean. Sam stands there for a moment, then joins them.


	17. Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Dean glances to where Addison was sitting cross legged on Sam’s bed, cleaning her black Colt compact. He wasn’t the type of man to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it never stopped him from worrying about his family. “Stop it.” He looks up to find Addison staring at him with an annoyed look. “I’m fine. So, stop worrying.”

“Who says I’m worried.” Dean argues, turning back to his own gun.

“You always bitch about me spending too much time in the bathroom. But you didn’t this morning, which means you’re worried. I’m fine, okay.”

Sam walks out of the bathroom, carrying his suit. He casts a concerned glance at Addison. “This lawyer guy the first heart free corpse in town.” Dean questions, looking at his younger brother.

“The first man.” Sam corrects, sitting down at the table. “Over the past year, several women have gone missing. Dean bodies all washed up later in the bay, too deteriorated to draw firm conclusions.”

“But no hearts?” Addison asks.

“No hearts. They were all hookers working in Hunter’s Point. Now, cops are trying to keep things under wrap, but they’re looking for a serial killer.”

“And the lunar cycle?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, month after after month, all the murders happen in the week leading up to the full moon.”

“Which is this week, right?”

“Hence the lawyer.”

“Awesome.”

Sam glares at his older brother. He too was worried about Addison. “Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?”

“I’m sorry, but what about ‘a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight’ don’t you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven’t seen once since we were kids.” The glare doesn’t leave Sam’s face. “You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down.” Dean picks up a silver bullet. “One of these bad boys right to the heart. So, what’s our next move?”

Sam sighs. “Talk to the girl who found the body.” He shifts in his seat. “Ads—”

“If either of you ask me if I’m fine again, I will smash your computer, Sam, and Dean, I will take a Louisville slugger to both headlights on the Impala.”

Dean glares at her. “You do anything to my car and it’ll be the last thing you do, Ads.”

“You got that from that song.” Sam amusedly says. He laughs when Addison awkwardly shifts. “Remember that bar in Oklahoma last month. It was playing on the radio.”

“You have shitty taste in music, Ads.” Dean says.

“Shut up.” Addison snaps. “Don’t we have more important things to do? Like find a werewolf.”

_Addison reaches over and turns down the volume as ‘God Saves The Queen’ blares over the speakers. Patrick was sitting in the driver’s seat of his beloved 1968 Mustang Fastback. “You’re sure it’s a werewolf?” she asks, turning back to the case file sitting in her lap._

_“All the dates match up, Ads. Did you guys finally set a date?” Patrick replies, motioning to the diamond ring sitting on her left hand._

_“Next June. After graduation. Shockingly, Mrs. Bennett thinks we should wait until after Wes is finished with law school.”_

_“And what did Wes say to that?”_

_“That if it was left up to him, we’d just elope. She almost had a heart attack when she realized Wes wasn’t joking. Through if Mrs. Bennett keeps trying to plan my wedding, I’m going to tell Wes we’ll just elope.”_

_Patrick smirks. “Well, if you do decide to forgo the wedding and elope, just let me know so I can be there. My only daughter isn’t getting married without me there.”_

Madison was an attractive, dark haired woman who lived in a small apartment near the San Francisco Baby. “I don’t understand. I already gave my statement.” she says, letting the trio in.

“Right, well, we just need to verify a few things.” Sam tells her.

A man with a beard and wearing a bright yellow shirt was standing by the door near Madison’s apartment. “This is my neighbor, Glen. Glen, this is Detective…”

“Landis. And Detectives Dante and Price,” Dean supplies, pointing out who was who.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it,” Glen awkwardly says.

Madison smiles. “Okay. Thanks for the casserole.”

“Oh, how thoughtful,” Dean mutters, causing Addison to shoot him an annoyed look.

Glen nods. “Just call if you need anything.”

Madison shoots him a smile as he leaves. “He’s sweet. He came over to check on me. Have a seat.”

“You must be pretty shaken up,” Sam states as they all sit down at the kitchen table. “You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?”

“For two years, yeah.”

“You must’ve known a lot about him,” Addison says.

“Probably knew more about him than he did. Nate was — he was nice.”

“But,” Sam asks.

“Nothing, really. He had a few scotches in him and he started hitting on anyone in a five mile radius. You know the type.”

“Oh yeah,” Addison says, glancing at Dean.

Dean clears his throat. “Did he have any enemies?”

Madison frowns. “What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack.”

“No, yeah, we’re just covering all the bases. Anyone that might have a had beer with him — former client, an ex?”

Sam notices a realization flash over Madison’s face. “What?”

Madison sighs. “Well, this is embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt—”

“Kurt have a last name,” Dean interrupts.

“Mueller. After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He’s…well, he’s kind of been stalking me. He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up my office.”

“What happened,” Addison asks.

“Kurt got into it with Nate, threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job.”

“When was the last time you saw Kurt,” Dean questions.

“A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar and Kurt showed up.”

“And?”

“Nothing. It was like he was watching me. Then he was gone. To tell you the truth…he scares me.”

Addison nods, standing up and the boys follows suit. “Thank you for your time. We’ll get in touch if we need anything else.” The trio walks out of the apartment. “What do you guys think?”

“Stalker ex-boyfriend? He hates the boss. And he was there that night,” Sam says.

“You think he’s our dog faced boy,” Dean questions.

“Well, it’s a theory.”

“We’ve had worse.”

“So, let’s check out Kurt,” Addison says.

_Addison clutches the gun as she walks through the woods. The full moon provided some light. A twig snaps and she stops. She hears heavy breathing behind her. Slowly, she turns around and sees the werewolf form of a local man who lived in the nearby fishing community. She takes a step back, then takes off running. The werewolf tackles her to the ground. The gun flies out of her hand. Addison screams as he scratches her back. “Hey!”The werewolf looks up and sees Patrick._

_The werewolf jumps off of Addison and runs at Patrick. Addison scrambles up and finds her gun in a pile of leaves. She looks up to see the werewolf tackle Patrick and a gunshot goes off. “Dad!” The werewolf looks back at her and runs at her. Addison aims her gun at the werwolf and pulls the trigger. She fires four shots. The werewolf transforms into a man as it falls to the ground. She sees Patrick still lying on the ground and runs over to him. “Dad, are you okay?”_

_“No.” Patrick answers._

_Addison holds out her hand and helps him up. She sees blood covering his right arm. “Dad, what happened?”_

_Patrick closes his eyes. “It bite me.” He looks up at his daughter and sees the worry in her eyes. He pushes himself up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”_

While they had been searching Kurt’s apartment the night before, the werewolf had killed a policeman who was on patrol in the neighborhood. It was that exact reason they were at Madison’s apartment early that morning. “Has Kurt been here,” Sam asks as Madison pours them each a cup of coffee.

“Not exactly,” Madison answers.

“What do you mean,” Addison questions.

“Well, he was outside last night. Just…looking. Just looking at me.” The trio exchanges a look and Madison sighs. “Has he done something?”

“We’re not really sure,” Sam tells her.

“It’s probably nothing, but…we just don’t wanna take any chances. In fact, one of us should probably stay here with you, just in case he stops by. Where does he work?”

“He owns a body ship,” Madison says.

“You mind grabbing that address for us,” Dean asks. Madison nods and leaves the room.

“All right, you guys go. I’ll stay,” Sam quietly says.

“Forget that. You and Ads go after the creepy ex. I’m gonna hang here with the hot chick.”

“Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?”

“Because I’m older.”

“No, fuck that. We settle this the old fashioned way,” Sam says, raising a fist. Addison rolls her eyes. Dean shoots scissors while Sam shoots rock. He smirks. “Dean, always with the scissors.”

“Shut up, shut up—”

“You know, I could always stay while you two check out the ex,” Addison suggests.

The guys glance at her. “Two out of three,” Dean says, turning back to Sam. They play a second time, each pick the same thing. “God!”

Sam smirks. “Bundle up out there, all right?”

“I hate you both,” Addison deadpans.

_Addison stares at the beige carpet. She was sitting on one side of the motel room while Patrick sat on the other side. Their injures had been stitched and bandaged. The scratches on her back were worse then the bite on his arm. Neither had spoken since leaving the forest. Addison sighs. “Dad, I’m sorry.”_

_“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Ads.” Patrick quietly counters._

_“I screwed up. And if I hadn’t, then the werewolf—”_

_“Addison, stop. It’s not your fault.”_

_“Yes, it is. If I hadn’t let the werewolf catch me off guard then you wouldn’t have gotten bitten while trying to save me. It’s all my fault.”_

_Patrick crosses the room and sits down next to her. “Addison, look at me.” She reluctantly does. “You’re my daughter. And I would do whatever it takes to protect you. If that includes getting bit by a bloody werewolf, then so be it.”_

_Addison wipes away her tears. “What are you gonna do? You — I can’t—”_

_“It’s the only way, Ads.”_

_“But there has to be a cure. We can find a cure.”_

_Patrick pulls her into a hug and she sobs into his chest. He softly kisses the top of her head while ignoring his own tears. “We’ll find a cure, Ads.”_

Addison sighs as she and Dean stand on the street outside of Kurt’s building. They had spent the day following the man around, which included a visit to a strip club (which included Dean buying Addison a lap dance). A light turns on in Kurt’s apartment and Dean readies his gun. Glass shatters and the light suddenly turns off. They run into the building and up to Kurt’s forth floor apartment. Dean kicks down the door and they enter, guns ready. The werewolf form of a dark haired woman was kneeling over a body. Addison steps back, gripping her gun. There werewolf lunges at Dean and slams him into the wall.

“Hey!” The werewolf turns it’s attention on Addison. All she needed was to distract it long enough for Dean to get up. Addison runs into the bedroom and slams the door shut. The werewolf hits the door. There’s no gunshots. Cautiously, Addison opens the door. The werewolf was gone. And Dean was slumped against the wall. “Dean!” She darts over to him.

Her hands search his body for any sign of a werewolf bite. “Ads.” She looks up to find him staring at her. “Not that I don’t enjoy you groping me—”

Addison wraps her arms around him. Tears fall. “I thought you got bit.”

Dean protectively cups the back of her head. “Other than a headache, I’m fine, Ads.”

_Addison watches as her father sniffs the drink she made from some herbs she had picked up. He looks up at her. “What exactly is in this, Addison?”_

_“Grass, wolfsbane.” Addison begins._

_Patrick shakes his head and pours the drink down the sink. “I’d rather not die from being poisoned.”_

_“But according to medieval legends, wolfsbane cured the drinker from lycanthropy.”_

_“Wolfsbane is a poison, Ads.”_

_Addison cross the motel room and grabs a piece of paper off the table. “Okay. There’s a Sicilian legend that says hitting a werewolf on the head will cure it. We should use a silver knife through.”_

_Patrick grabs Addison’s shoulder. “Addison, stop. Just stop.”_

_Addison shakes her head. “No. No. I’m not gonna just let you die.”_

_“Yes, you are. And you’re going to be the one that puts a silver bullet in my heart.”_

Dean glances at the closed door that led to the bathroom. He could hear the dial tone, but he was focused on the person in the shower. He had woken up to find Addison worriedly staring at him. “Dean, you okay?” Sam asks.

Dean snaps out of his thoughts. “Yeah, now that I’m conscious. The werewolf knocked me out.” He pauses. He didn’t want to tell Sam the werewolf’s identity. “Sam, it’s Madison.”

“What?”

“Yeah, awesome job of keeping an eye one her.”

“Dean, I’ve been here the whole time. She’s in bed, asleep.”

“Well, she wasn’t an hour ago. Check her right arm, below her elbow. I nicked her with a silver knife.” Sam hangs up and Dean tosses his phone onto the bed. The bathroom door opens and Addison emerges in a cloud of steam. “Our werewolf is the check that Sam wants to bone.”

“I don’t think Sam would sleep with a werewolf.” Addison replies, pulling some clothes out of her duffle. “You on the other hand—”

“Hey, I wouldn’t bang a monster.”

“What if you didn’t know they were a monster?”

She laughs when he doesn’t say anything. Dean glares at her, then smirk. “I’ve slept with you and you’re a monster in the mornings.”

_Patrick sighs and sets down the bullet mold. “Addison, I know—”_

_“You’re sitting there making silver bullets, Dad. One of those bullets is going to be the one that ends your life.” Addison softly interrupts. “Nothing you could say or do would ever make that okay.”_

_“I don’t supposed it would.”_

_“Why me? Why not call John or Bobby and ask them to do it?”_

_“Hunters like John see the world in black and white. Us versus monsters. If we told them, then I would already be dead. But there’s still a chance that I might not even turn.”_

_Addison frowns. “What do you mean?”_

Addison follows Dean into the apartment. Sam was upset, but she didn’t ask why. She didn’t have to. Madison was tied to a chair in the middle of the living room and confused look was on her face. A cut was visible right under her elbow. “How you doing?” Dean coldly asks. “My head feels great, thanks.”

“We’ve gotta talk,” Sam tells them. He leads them into a bed and closes the door behind them. “She says she has no idea what I’m talking about.”

“Sam, she’s probably lying,” Addison comments.

“Or maybe she really doesn’t know she’s changing, you know? Maybe when the creatures takes over, she blacks out.”

“Like a really hot Incredible Hulk,” Dean sarcastically says. “Come on, dude, she ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t sound rash and unconscious.”

“Yeah, but what if it was? What if some animal part of her brain saw both those guys as threats? Hell, the cop too.”

“What are you, the Dog Whisperer now?”

“Look, man, I just…I don’t know, there was something in her eyes.”

“Yeah, she’s killing people!”

“But if she has no control over it—”

“That’s the point, Sam. She can’t control it,” Addison argues. “Besides, if she’s telling the truth, then nothing changes.”

“Addison, I’m not putting a bullet through some girl’s chest who has no idea what’s happening.”

“So, you’re feeling sorry for a monster?”

“Maybe I understand her.” Addison shakes her head and turns away from them. “Look, there might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her.”

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Dean asks, glancing at Addison.

Sam flips through John’s journal. “Dad’s theory — ‘lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline.’”

“Might have a cure. Meaning who the hell knows.”

Sam shoots his brother an exasperated look. “It’s worth a shot.”

“We don’t even know where to start looking, all right? I mean, the puppy that bit her could be anyone, anywhere. It could’ve been years ago,” Dean argues.

Realization crosses Sam’s face. “No, I don’t think so.” Addison reluctantly follows the boys back into the living room. “Madison, when you were mugged? Please. It’s important, all right? Just answer the question.”

“About a month ago,” Madison answers.

“Did you see the guy?”

“No. He grabbed me from behind.”

“Did he bite you?”

Madison stares at Sam. “How did you know that?”

“Where?”

“On the back of my neck.”

Sam brushes her hair to the side. A large bruise and bite mark were on the back of Madison’s neck. “Oh, that’s just a love bite,” Dean lies. “Believe me, that could have been a lot worse. Where were you at the time?”

“Walking home from a friend’s loft.”

“Let me guess,” Sam starts. “Not too far from Hunter’s Point?” Madison nods. Sam drags Dean and Addison back into the bedroom. “The same place where those other murders happened. I’m telling you, it’s a werewolf’s hunting grounds.”

“Doesn’t mean that it’ll be there tonight,” Addison argues.

“It’s the right time of the lunar cycle, Addison.” Sam sighs. “Look, I know it’s a long shot.”

Addison scoffs. “Hey, you’re forgetting something,” Dean says. “Maddie’s probably gonna turn soon, all right? We can’t just let her take off to an all you can eat buffet.”

“I’ll stay with her.”

“What happens if she gets free?” Addison questions and Sam remains silent. “Sam—”

“I’ll shoot her, all right? But I need you two to go out there. At least go look for the thing. Please. We can save this girl.”

Addison shakes her head and walks out of the apartment. She’s leaning against the Impala when Dean joins her. “Figured you’d be gone.” She shrugs. “Hey, I”m just as unsure about—”

“It’s not going to work, Dean.” Addison snaps. “There’s no cure. Because if there was I sure as hell would have found it.”

_Addison shifts, taking in everything Patrick had just told her. “What happens if you don’t change? What do we do? I mean, we can’t tell anyone…but if they find out…”_

_“I know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ve been more worried about what happens on the full moon.” Patrick replies. “But if I change, you shoot me. You take me out before I hurt you. I mean it, Addison.”_

_Addison sighs. “Okay.”_

_“And promise me that you won’t tell anyone.”_

_“Dad—”_

_“If other hunters knew what I just told you, Ads, then they would start hunting down things that are much too powerful for them to handle. It would be nothing short of a suicide run. Hell, Chicago would be a battle ground. No, it’s just better that you don’t tell anyone. Promise me.”_

_“I promise.”_

Addison tightly grips her gun as she hides in the alley. Hunter’s Point was made up of abandoned buildings and convince stores. There were also plenty of dark alleys to hide in. A woman walks past her hiding spot. A growl echoes behind Addison. Slowly, she turns around. The werewolf was standing behind her. Inwardly, she sadly sighs seeing that it was Glen.

She puts her gun in the back of her jeans before taking a step back. Addison knew exactly where Dean was hiding. “Please don’t bite me, Pluto.” she says, then takes off down the street. Her feet pound the pavement as her heart pounds in her ears. 

The werewolf tackles her to the ground. She can feel it’s breath on the back of her neck. “Hey!” The werewolf looks up. Gunshots rings out and Addison grunts when it lands on her. A weight is lifted and Addison looks up to see Dean. He holds out a hand and helps her up.

The werewolf morphs back into Glen and he coughs up blood. “What happened? Where am I? Help me. Oh, God. Oh my God.”

Dean kneels down next to him. “All right, easy, Glen. Just take it easy.”

_Addison frowns when Patrick parks the Mustang next to the same forest that he had been bitten in. Patrick climbs out of the Mustang and Addison scrambles out after him. “Dad?” Addison questions, moving around the car._

_“It’s safer out here.” Patrick replies, opening the trunk. “In case I get away, there’s a smaller chance of me hurting anyone.” He takes out a black Colt compact and holds it out. “I loaded it this morning. Besides, it’s yours now.”_

_Addison reluctantly takes her father’s gun. “We can still get someone else to do…do it.”_

_“No. I’d rather it be you, Addison. Besides, you’re the only one I trust in case I don’t turn.” Addison sighs and looks down at the ground. Patrick holds out a flashlight and she takes it as he slams the trunk closed. “Come on, we don’t have long until moon rise.”_

_The Hobbit_ was one Addison’s favorite books. She always kept a copy in her duffel bag and it showed since her current copy was missing the back cover. She also hated stakeouts, which was why she was currently reading instead of paying attention to the house behind her. “It was sort of sad, actually. Glen had no clue what was going on,” Dean says, shifting in the driver’s seat. “Hey, why do you think he turned Madison instead of just killing her in the first place?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, he kind of seemed to have a thing for her.”

“The wolf in him picked up on the fact that he liked her,” Addison comments, not looking up from her book.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs. “Something like that.”

“So,” Dean says, smirking.

“So what?”

“Speaking of Madison…”

“Oh, whatever.”

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me, man, you liked her. Maybe, uh—”

“Dean, she thought I was a stark raving lunatic.”

“You saved her life.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that.”

A knock on the passenger window startles all three of them. They look to see Madison standing there. Sam rolls down the window. “You know, for a stake out, your car’s a bit conspicuous,” Madison greets. “What are you still doing here?”

“Honestly,” Dean starts. “We’re pretty sure you’re not gonna turn tonight, but we’ve gotta be a hundred percent, so…you know.”

“I know this sounds crazy,” Sam tells her.

“Sure does,” Madison replies. “Well, if we’re gonna wait out…we might as well do it together.”

The four of them make their way up to Madison’s apartment. “You were telling the truth, weren’t you,” Madison asks, looking between the trio. “About everything. What you did — it was to help me.”

“Yeah,” Sam answers. The attraction between himself and Madison clear to everyone in the apartment.

“I did all those horrible things…when I turned.”

“You didn’t know.”

“So, when will we know for sure? Moonrise?”

“I don’t think so. You turned in the middle of the night list night. I think we’ve gotta hang in until sun up.”

“Well, it looks like we’ve got ourselves a few hours to kill,” Dean says, sitting down at the kitchen table. Addison sits down next to him, reopening her book. “Poker, anyone?”

* * *

Sunrise came without incident. They had spent most of the night making small talk to pass the time. Dean, after making an awkward exit, and Addison headed back to the motel room while Sam stayed with Madison. Once inside the motel room, Addison shoves Dean onto one of the beds and straddles his waist. His hands quickly settles on her hips as she shrugs off her jacket. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.” Dean begins.

“The way I see it, Dean, is that you have two options.” Addison interrupts, pulling off her shirt. “We have sex or I take a long bath by myself. I mean, I get the same result either way. But option one is much more fun.”

A contemplative look crosses Dean’s face. Addison starts to stand up, but he tightens his grip on her. “Hey, I was just picturing option two in my mind. But I think I’ll take option one.”

Addison smirks and presses her lips against his. “Good choice.”

The next morning, a loud banging on the door wakes Dean. He could hear the shower running, telling him where Addison was. He pulls on his boxer briefs and answers the door. Sam was standing there, with a frantic look on his face. “She turned.” Sam breathlessly says.

“What?” Dean questions.

“I couldn’t grab her in time,” Sam continues, pushing past him into the room. He gazes barely takes in the clothes scattered around the room and the one messy bed.

Dean places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Sammy.”

* * *

“I already called Bobby,” Sam says as they walk down the stairs towards the Impala. “He doesn’t know anything. Except he knew severing the bloodline wouldn’t work. That’s everyone. They all say it’s impossible to reverse it.”

“I could’ve told you that, Sam,” Addison mutters, pulling her wet hair into a ponytail.

“How come she didn’t turn when we were with her,” Dean asks.

“Maybe she has to be asleep or something before she wolfs out.”

“What the fuck does it matter, Addison,” Sam snaps. “Look, we’ve gotta find someway to help her, some legend we missed or something.”

“Don’t you think that if there was a way, then I would’ve found it,” Addison argues. “There’s no cure.”

“Well, then we have to look harder until we find something. You probably missed something.”

Addison glares at him. “I didn’t miss a damn thing! There’s no cure, Sam! You just don’t want to face the fact that you have to go put a bullet in her heart!”

Dean sees the anger flash on Sam’s face. “Ads, get in the car,” he quietly orders. Addison stares at him with disbelief and he gives a hard look. She glares at him and climbs into the Impala, slamming the door shut with such force that Dean winces. He runs a hand over his face and looks at his brother. “Sammy, I don’t think we’ve got a choice here anymore. I hate to say it. She’s a sweet girl, but part of her is—”

“Evil,” Sam interrupts.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, that’s what they say about me, Dean. So, me you guys won’t kill, but her you’re just gonna blow away?” Dean remains quiet. Sam scoffs and turns away from him. His phone suddenly rings and he pulls it out. “Madison, where are you? Well, do you see any street signs? All right, hold on, Maddie. We’re coming to get you, just stay where you are.”

_Addison yawns as she heads back to where she had left Patrick. They had been waiting for a few hours for the full moon to rise. Neither of them had said anything while they waited. She wasn’t sure if she could handle talking anyway. A twig snaps and Addison turns, only to find no one there. “Dad!” she calls out, cautiously moving towards the sound. Another twig snaps and she turns. Out of nowhere, something comes and slams into the back of her head. Addison falls to the ground, unconscious._

Addison sighs as she follows the boys and Madison into the small apartment. They all knew what needed to be done. But she had been the only one to voice it. Dean places his gun on the kitchen table and Sam avoids looking at it. “I don’t remember anything,” Madison tells them. “I probably killed someone last night, didn’t I?”

“There’s no way to know yet,” Dean replies.

“Is there something else we can try to make it go away?”

“We’ll find something,” Sam says. “I mean, there’s gotta be some answer, somewhere.”

Addison shakes her head. “That’s not true.” She shoots Madison an apologetic look. “There is no cure, Madison. I mean, I’ve looked every where, talked to everyone I know. And there’s no cure.”

Madison turns to Sam. “Is she right?”

Sam turns away from Madison. “The only other thing is to lock you up every full moon,” Addison continues. “But you’ll eventually break out. And you’ll kill someone else. I am so sorry, Madison. I really am.”

“So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then.”

“Stop it,” Sam says. His voice was filled with emotion. Unshed tears were sitting in his eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”

Tears fall down Madison’s face. “Sam, I don’t wanna hurt anyone else. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Madison picks up Dean’s gun and holds it out to Sam. “Put that down,” Sam tells her.

“I can’t do it myself. I need you to help me.”

“Madison, no.”

“Sam…I’m a monster.”

“You don’t have to be. We can find a way, all right? I can. I’m gonna save you.”

“You tried. I know you tried. But this is all there is left. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you.”

“I can’t.”

“I don’t wanna die. I don’t. But I can’t live like this. This is the way you can save me. Please. I’m asking you to save me.”

Sam shakes his head. Dean walks up behind Madison. He takes the gun from Madison, then he, Sam, and Addison walk towards the door. Sam wasn’t holding back his tears any long. “Sam, I’m sorry,” Dean tells him.

“No, you’re both right. She’s right,” Sam replies.

“Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it.”

“She asked me to.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. Please.” Sam holds his hand and Dean reluctantly hands over his gun. “Just wait here.”

Dean and Addison silently watch as Sam walks over to Madison. Addison turns her back to the scene. She couldn’t stop her own tears. Dean pulls her into a tight embrace and she buries her face in his chest. A gunshot rings out and they both flinch.

_Addison groans and opens her eyes. The sun was high above her. She sits up and pain shoots through her head. She touches the back of her head and finds it covered in blood. “Dad!” she shouts, standing up. “Dad!” She grabs the gun and flashlight before making her way over to where she had last left Patrick. But there was no sign of him. “Dad! Dad!”_


	18. Hollywood Babylon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

"First opened in 1927, the lot has been in continuous operation for eight decades," the tour guide says. Addison looks around the backlot of Warner Bros studio. She was sitting next to Sam, with Dean sitting in front of them and a kid eating cream sitting next to him.

"Hey, you know this is where the filmed Creepshow.” Dean comments and Addison rolls her eyes.

"Now, to the right here is Stars Hollow. It's the setting for the television series,  _Gilmore Girls_. And if we're lucky, we might even catch one of the show's stars," the tour guide continues.

"Come on," Sam announces and hops off the tram.

"Let's finish the tour," Dean counters and looks at Addison, who shrugs before getting off. Dean reluctantly gets off the tram and they start walking around the backlot. "Check it out, it's Matt Damon!"

Addison turns and looks at a man wearing a jumpsuit before shaking her head. "That's not Matt Damon."

"Yeah, it is," Dean replies.

"Then why did Matt Damon just pick up a broom and start sweeping," Addison retorts, smirking at Dean.

"Yeah, well, he's probably researching a role or something."

"Oh yeah. I totally forgot that his next movie is going to be about a janitor. That's not Matt Damon."

"Hey," Sam interrupts and they look at him. "Stage nine is over there."

"Come on, man, let's keep going this way," Dean says, pointing the way the tram had went.

"No, come on, we've gotta work," Sam counters and Dean lets out a sigh as they start walking towards the stage. "Dude, you wanted to come to LA."

"Yeah, for a vacation. I mean, swimming pools and movie stars, not to work."

"This seem like swimming pool weather to you? I mean, it's practically Canadian."

"Look, Sam, you could use a little break...especially after everything that happened with Madison," Addison comments.

"Well, maybe I wanna work, Addison. Maybe it keeps my mind off things," Sam replies and Addison lets out a sigh.

"So, this crew guy — he died on set," Dean asks, after a moment.

"Yeah, rumors spreading like wildfire online saying the set's haunted."

"Like Poltergeist?"

"It could be a poltergeist."

"No, no. Like, the movie  _Poltergeist_ ," Dean corrects and Sam shrugs. "You know nothing of your cultural heritage, do you? It was rumored that the set of  _Poltergeist_  was cursed. That they used real human bones as props. And, like, at least three of the actors died in it."

"Yeah, it might be something like that."

"All right, so this crew guy - what's his name?"

"Frank Jaffey."

"Frank Jaffey — he got a death certificate or a coroner's report or anything?"

"Well, no. But it's LA, you know? It might not even be his real name. But the girl who found him said she saw something - a vanishing figure."

"What's the girl's name?"

"Tara Benchley."

"Whoa, whoa, Tara Benchley? From FeardotCom and Ghost Ship, Tara Benchley? Dude, why didn't you say so?"

"So now, you're suddenly on board?"

"Oh, I mean, I'm just a fan of her work. She's very good," Dean says and walks away.

"Well, this is going to a great hunt," Addison sarcastically comments to Sam as they follow after him.

They enter the set and a man turns to them. "Uh, excuse me, Green Shirt Guy," he asks and Dean points to himself. "Yeah, you. Come here." Dean exchanges a look with her and Sam before walking over to the man. "Can you get me a smoothie from Kraft?"

"You want a what from who," Dean confusedly asks.

"You are a P.A.? This is what you do?"

Sensing that Dean was about to get them thrown off the set, Addison quickly steps, giving the man a bright smile. "One smoothie coming right up."

Addison grabs Dean's shirt sleeve and starts pulling him away. "What's a P.A.," he asks her.

"I think they're like slaves," Sam answers.

Addison grins and pats Dean on the back. "Hope you have lots of fun."

* * *

Addison walks over to where Dean and Sam were standing by the kraft services table as another man walks away. "You have to try these," Dean greets and holds up a sandwich.

"Uh, no thanks. I already had lunch," Addison replies and pulls out some folded up paper. "I dug up a little history on stage nine and over the past eighty years, there's been two suicides and two accidents that resulted in death."

"Any one of those could be a vengeful spirit."

"Just have to figure out which one is playing the role of grim reaper," Addison jokes.

"I'll get right on that," Dean says and walks over to Tara Benchley.

Addison rolls her eyes. "Great. Dean gets the spend the entire hunt hitting on a movie star. You know, once I'd like to be the one to flirt or sleep with whoever we're supposed to be helping." Sam looks at her. Her hair was slowly growing back out. And she was wearing boots instead of her sneakers. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Sam softly replies. A confused looks appears on her face. "You were just trying to help and I was—"

Addison places a hand on his arm. "Sam, it's okay." She shakes her head, then smiles at him. "How about we just go back to the way things were?" Sam nods. Then impulsively, he pulls her into a hug. She tenses for a second, then relaxes into the hug.

* * *

After Dean did some research, which Addison was shocked about, they arrive in front of a one story house in Burbank. Dean knocks on the door and a moment later, it's opened by a grey haired man wearing an Hawaiian shirt. "Gerard St. James?"

"Yes," he replies.

"You're still alive. And you're not Frank Jaffey," Sam states.

"Uh, no."

"You were Desert Soldier Number Four in Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared-Syn," Dean excitedly asks.

"I was."

"I knew I recognized you. I am a huge fan. I mean, your turn as a tractor crash victim in Critters 3?"

"Critters 3!"

"Wow. Yeah."

"Well, please, come in." They follow Gerard into his house. Head shots of him in various costumes were along a wall. "Yeah, it was the producers. They brought me up for the day to play Frank."

"And to fake your death," Addison questions.

"Well, rumors of a haunted film set, free publicity, especially when you're making a horror movie. It's already all over the Internet. And these days, it's all about new media, building buzz. They say I'm the new LonelyGirl."

"Who," Dean asks.

"And the ghost Tara saw," Sam asks.

"Projected on a screen of diffusion," Gerard explains.

"That's kinda mean," Addison says. "Screwing with everybody."

"Hey, I just play the part. I don't write the script. Speaking of, I'm playing Willy in a dinner theatre production of Salesman at Costa Mesa, all next month." Gerard hands them each a flyer. "You get a free pepper steak with the coupon."

"Now, wait a second," Dean starts. "If you're seen in public, won't that ruin the hoax?"

"Oh, please. Frank and Willy? Totally different characters."

"You know what.” Sam says. "Thanks very much, Mr. St. James. It was just nagging at us. But we're very glad...you know, you're alive and well."

"Absolutely," Dean agrees. Gerard shakes their hands. Addison smiles at him. "Hey, I wanted to ask you...what was it like working with Richard Moll?" Confused looks appear on Sam and Addison's face. "Metalstorm. He was Hurok, King of the Cyclops people."

"Gentlemen's gentleman," Gerard answers.

"Yeah?" Gerard nods. Dean grins. Addison and Sam exchange looks of annoyance before leaving the house. Dean runs after them. "Hey, something good came out of this. We get free pepper steak."

* * *

Addison dodges people as she and Sam walk through the set to where Dean was standing. After seeing reports of a producer dying on the set, they had went to the morgue. Of course, Dean had no problem with going back undercover on the set. A man wearing glasses walks away from Dean when they reach him. "Walter's a little testy for a P.A., huh?"

"How's it going in here," Sam asks.

"It is going really good, man. Tara's really stepped up her performance. I think it's probably from all the sense memory stuff she's drawing on."

"Sense memory," Addison amusedly questions.

"Yeah."

"Dean, you know when we ask how it's going in here, we're talking about the case, right," Sam explains. "We don't really work here. You know, I thought you hated being a P.A."

"I don't know. It's not so bad. I kind of feel like part of the team, you know?" Dean holds out a plate. "Taquito? They're wonderful."

Addison smiles and grabs one off the plate. "Look, we got into the morgue."

"And?"

"Brad's as stiff as a doornail."

"Copy that. I'm sorry, what?"

"Copy that," Sam questions. He glances at Addison and she shrugs while eating the taquito.

"What did you say?"

"The news reports were right. Brad's a doornail—"

"They are aware."

"Who's aware?"

"I'm sorry, what are you saying?"

"Brad's dead," Addison tells him.

"I guess it's a good thing we didn't skip town."

"Apparently so."

"Oh, come here. I want you to hear something." Dean presses a button on the head. "Copy that. On my way." He leads them over to where a man was sitting by a sound board. "Hey, Dave. Can you play them that thing you were playing me earlier?"

"Sure," Dave replies. He hands a pair of headphones to Sam and presses a button on the sound board. Sam sends them a look, then pulls off the headphones.

"Thanks," Sam tells him, then the three of them walk away. "EVP."

"From the night of Brad's stage dive," Dean continues. "All of a sudden, I'm getting electromagnetic readings up the wazoo. For some reason, it's a legit haunting now."

"What does the ghost want," Addison questions. "Does it just hate the movie or the cast?"

"I don't know. I think we should take a look at Brad's death scene." Dean leads them out of the studio and to where a roll of trailers was parked. He climbs into one of the trailers with them behind him. He grabs a disc off the top of a stack and puts in a DVD player. Addison and Sam sit on the leather couch while Dean sits on a footrest. Footage from the film appears on the screen.

"Where'd you get this?"

"They're called dailies. I got it from Cindy. She's kind of got this on-and-off thing going with Drew. He dubbed me an extra copy." They watch the scene. Addison raises an eyebrow. From what she had seen, the film didn't look like it was gonna be good. "Alright, here's where the guy fell through the roof."

"Right," Sam replies.

"Alright, here we go."

The scene continues. Then Brad drops into the middle of the scene. Addison jumps, grabbing Sam's leg in the process. Sam leans forward. "Wait, go back, go back." Dean rewinds the DVD. "Wait. There."

In the back corner of the scene, was a woman. Her skin and clothing were grey toned. "Its like Three Men and a Baby all over again." Sam shoots his brother a confused look. "Selleck, Danson, and Guttenberg. And...I don't know who played the baby."

Sam stares at him. "What's your point?"

"Everyone says that there's a ghost in background of one of the scenes. You know, spirit photography," Addison explains. "But I've seen that woman before."

* * *

Sam watches as Addison sifts through the research they had done. Even through he was still grieving Madison's death, who he felt that he had a real connection with, the developing feelings he had for Addison were still there. Dean joins them at the table, sitting down across from them. Addison holds out an article to him. "Yeah, go for Ozzy," Dean says into the headset. "No, I don't have twenty on Tara, I think she's ten-one hundred. Okay copy that." He takes the article.

"Elise Drummond was a starlet in the thirties," Addison explains. "She was having an affair with a studio executive, then he dumps her and fires her. So, Elise hangs herself from the rafters and drops into the middle of a scene."

"Just like our man Brad. So, what, she's got it in for the studio brass?"

"Possibly. I mean, it's a motive. And Brad's death matches hers exactly," Sam says.

"We're digging tonight, aren't we?"

"You're digging," Addison corrects.

"And what are you gonna be doing, princess?"

Addison smirks. "Watching the big strong men dig."

* * *

Addison walks between Dean and Sam as they search the Hollywood cemetery. Since she opted not to do any digging, Dean had made her carry his shovel which annoyed her. "Which way," Sam asks.

Dean looks down at the map he had gotten from the main gate. "Uh..." He motions to the right. "Over there. Hey." He nods to the statue of Humpty Dumpty. Addison and Sam shake their heads. "This map is totally worth the five bucks! Hey, we've gotta go check out Johnny Ramone's grave when we're done here."

"Why? You gonna dig him up too," Addison asks.

"Bite your tongue, heathen!" They pass another memorial statue, this of a man doing a guitar pose. "Oh, that's cool."

"You know what I don't get is why now," Sam questions. "I mean, after seventy-five years, Elise Drummond suddenly goes homicidal, you know? Why this movie?"

"Well, maybe she's mad they're making a scary ghost flick."

"Come on, is it really that scary?"

Addison scoffs. "Yeah, it's downright terrifying. Maybe Elise saw someone in the same position as that she was in."

"Maybe."

"Here we go," Dean announces as they reach the grave. Addison shoves Dean's shovel at him, with a smirk. She grabs the map out of his hand. He grabs her wrist. "If I can't look around, neither can you."

Addison flips her hair into his face. "I guess that means you're not ready for your close up with Mr. DeMille."

* * *

They stand back as the detectives investigate the death of another producer on the film. They had seen it on the news and made their way back to the set. Blood and chunks covered the ground. "Run in with a giant fan," Sam quietly explains. "Same thing happened to an electrician back in '66, a guy named Billy Beard."

"What the hell," Dean asks.

"It definitely wasn't Elise. This wasn't her style," Addison tells them.

"We already torched her anyway. So, what, are we dealing with another ghost?"

"Except ghosts don't usually work together."

"Maybe there's something on the dallies," Sam suggests. "Elise was captured on film, then maybe Billy was too."

They walk outside to see that the rest crew was waiting around. A man, the director, was standing in the middle of the crowd. "Everyone! Huddle in," the director shouts. "In light of Jay's accident last night and in cooperation with the authorities, we're shutting down production for a few days. I know, I know. Look, I'm not gonna lie to you. We've had a few setbacks this week. But we all know what Jay and Brad wanted more than anything. And that was to see Hell Hazers 2: The Reckoning on screens all across America! Now, we owe it to them to go on and to pull together and make this damn movie, huh?" The crew cheers and claps. "But not today. Go home. Someone will call you.”

* * *

Sitting all day and watching the footage from an unreleased movie would be many a movie geek's dream. Except Addison hated it. She groans and covers her face with one of the leather pillows on the couch. The door opens and she moves the pillow to see Dean enter. "Please tell me you found out where the dude's buried."

"He wasn't," Dean answers. "Billy Beard was cremated."

"Great. What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"No idea. Anymore ghost cameos in the dailies?"

"Not in the first six hours," Sam tells him. "You know, maybe the spirits are trying to shut down the movie because they think it sucks. Because, I mean, it kind of does."

"No, no, no. This movie is so bad that it wouldn't-" Addison starts.

"Shut up." Addison stares at him. Sam rewinds the DVD player. "Listen to the invocation. That's the real deal - a necromantic summoning ritual. What the hell is that doing in a Hollywood movie?"

* * *

Over the course of their investigation, Dean had met almost everyone who was working on the film which made it easy for them to get a copy of the script and to find the screen writer, Marty. The production offices were a few buildings away from the actual set. Dean, Sam, and Addison stop at a office to see that Marty was talking on the phone. He notices them. “All right. Cool," Marty says, then puts down the phone. "Guys, we're all shut down. What are you still doing here?"

"Yeah, uh, sorry, man. We couldn't help ourselves," Sam tells him. "We just had to tell you that we read the script."

"And?"

"It's awesome," Addison lies.

"Awesome," Dean repeats.

"Really awesome," Sam says.

"I know, it's pretty rocking, right? I'm glad you guys liked it," Marty says.

"Yeah, I really liked all the attention to detail."

"Dude, right on, that's my thing. Color me guilty, but that is me. I'm a total detail buff."

"You know what I loved," Addison begins. "The way that the Enochian summoning rituals and authentic language was seamlessly worked in."

The smiles falls off Marty's face. "What, you mean that Latin crap?" Addison nods. "No, thats Walter. Walter Dixon, the original writer. You like that garbage?"

"Wait, 'Walter the P.A.' Walter," Dean asks.

"No, he's not a P.A. He's got a clause in his contract that allows him to come on set."

"But he wrote the invocations?"

"He wrote a whack job screenplay. There's no pace, there's no love interest, it's all wackadoo exposition. I had to cut, like, ninety percent of it to make it readable, the other ten percent to make it good."

"Do you have a copy of that script," Sam asks. Marty shrugs and hands him a script that was under a pile of other papers. "Thanks."

A couple of hours later, the three of them are sitting at a picnic table, overlooking the original script. "Should've kept Walter's original script," Dean says, leaning back. "It's actually pretty good."

"Yeah. And it reads like a how-to manual of conjuration, like a textbook on how to summon ghosts and get them to do whatever you want."

"Like kill people," Addison sighs.

"Yep. So, let's say somewhere down the line, Walter learned some pretty black magic."

"He decides to get revenge for making his movie into a piece of crap."

"Motive and means."

Dean nods in agreement. "It's worth checking out."

* * *

After retrieving a couple of weapons from the trunk of the Impala, they start their search for Walter. They find him and Marty on the set. Walter was watching as a ghost dragged Marty to a industrial sized fan. Dean walks up and shoots the ghost as Sam turns off the fan. "You are one hell of a P.A.," Marty says.

"Yeah, I know," Dean smugly replies.

"What are you doing," Walter exclaims.

"We could ask you the same thing, Walter," Sam counters, walking over to him. Walter climbs up the scaffolding. "Raising these spirits from the dead? Making them murder for you? That's playing with fire, Walter."

"You don't understand."

Addison scoffs. "Yeah, we don't understand."

"Just...wait, look. You put your heart and soul into something, years of hard work. It's years. And they take it! And they crap all over it! And then they want you to smile and say, 'Thank you.'"

"It's a movie," Addison snaps. Sam shoots her a frustrated look.

"Look...I've got nothing against you guys. You're not part of this. Just please, please, just leave. But Martin's gotta stay."

"Sorry, can't do that," Dean says. "It's not that we like him or anything, it's just a matter of principle."

"Then I'm sorry too," Walter replies, before raising the talisman.

"Walter. Walter, don't," Sam demands. Walter chants. The set around them starts shaking and the ghosts appear. Addison and Dean raise their guns, then the ghosts disappear. Sam is shoved to the floor. Addison helps him up and the two of them take off. Dean grabs Marty and follows Sam and Addison.

They run into a building. "Fuck," Addison exclaims, seeing that there was only half a building.

"Oh, man," Dean shouts in frustration.

"I can't believe this," Marty says. "Ghosts are real!"

Dean scoffs. "What makes you say that?"

"But I don't understand. How is Walter controlling them?"

"Probably that talisman," Sam answers. Then it hits him. He pulls out his cell phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I mean, if film cameras pick these suckers up, then...maybe..." Sam turns on the camera and scans the room. A ghost is standing a few feet away from him. He points to the ghost. "Ads, right there!" Addison shoots and the ghost disappears. Sam spots another ghost and points. "Dean, right there!" He spots Walter on the top level of the scaffolding. He hands his phone to Marty. "Here, you get the idea?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, you hold them off. I'm going after Walter."

"I cannot believe there's an afterlife."

"Oh, there's an afterlife, alright. But mostly, it's a pain in the ass," Dean comments.

"There!" Addison shoots the ghost. Marty spots another ghost, but before he can point it out, the ghost disappears. "It's gone."

Addison and Dean exchange a look, then run out of the soundstage with Marty following them. They reach Sam and Walter as Walter falls to the ground. He screams in pain. Marty raises the cell phone to see the ghosts ripping into Walter's back.

* * *

Addison smiles as she jogs over to Sam. She loops her arm through his. Her pockets were filled packets of chocolate chip cookies from the crafts service table. Their friendship was almost back to normal, something they were both happy about. They walk out of the soundstage and pass a couple of the trailers. A door opens and Dean climbs out. "You're one hell of a P.A.," Tara comments.

Dean grins at her. "Thank you."

Sam and Addison awkwardly smile at Tara. The three of them walk away, with Dean pausing to grab some snacks. "Dean, you're such a manwhore," Addison says, causing Sam to laugh. Dean shrugs.


	19. Folsom Prison Blues

Addison silently follows Dean and Sam through the museum. She couldn't believe that Dean was able to talk her into going along with this stupid plan. She had held out the longest, refusing to have anything to do with the plan until the very last minute. They all wore dark clothing, complete with gloves. "This way.” Dean say, looking up from the map he held.

"I hate this plan, Dean.” Sam comments.

"Yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it."

"Oh, okay. Because you act like you haven't," Addison counters. "This plan is the stupidest thing you have ever talked me into doing."

"I got that the first fifty times you said that, Addison. So, shut up."

Addison glares at him. The three of them enter a room. Display cases were filled with priceless Native American artifacts. She lets out a sigh and starts taking artifacts out of a case. A noise comes from the hallway. They nod to each other and walk out of the room, only to be stopped by numerous cops aiming guns and flashlights at them. "Freeze," an officer shouts. "Don't move! I said freeze! Put your hands behind your head! Down on your knees! Now!"

Addison glares at Dean once again as she kneels down on the ground. She continues to glare at him as the police officer handcuffs her. The angry look doesn't leave Addison's face as they're taken to the local police station and have their mug shots taken. And the angry look doesn't leave as she sits in the holding cell. It doesn't leave as she's taken into the interrogation room where Dean and Sam are sitting. She gives the blonde woman a tense smile as she sits down next to Sam.

"Mara Daniels, Public Defender's Office," the woman introduces. "Unfortunately, your arraignment on the breaking-and-entering charge won't be until Tuesday."

"And they'll keep us in the county jail," Dean asks.

"That's right."

"Green River County Detention Center," Sam asks.

"Yes. All three of you will be there. Unfortunately, for some strange reason, there isn't a women's detention center, Addison. Also, Agent Henriksen is demanding that you be kept at the same facility as Dean and Sam. And considering the charges you're facing, no judge in his right mind is going to grant you bail."

"Lovely," Addison sarcastically comments.

"Extradition papers have already been filed from five separate states, Missouri and Wisconsin being the biggest concern — the bank robbery and the murder raps."

"How long can we stall extradition," Sam asks.

"A week. Maybe less," Mara answers. The three of them exchange a look, knowing there was no way around it.

* * *

Addison walks in between Dean and Sam as they get off of the bus. She ignores the catcalls from the various male prisoners. On the inside, she was terrified. The last thing she ever wanted to do was be locked in a building with violent criminals all of who were male. "Don't worry, Sam. I promise I won't trade you for smokes," Dean comments.

"Then I guess we'll just have to trade you for smokes instead, Dean," Addison counters. She was still angry with him. She remains quiet as she's searched and forced to put on an orange jumpsuit. She enters a jail cell, with Sam following her. Addison tosses the blanket and roll of toilet paper onto the top bunk.

Addison climbs onto the top bunk. She leans close to Sam. "I'm glad we're in the same cell, Sam. Cause if I was stuck with Dean, I'd kill him for making us do this stupid plan."

A couple of hours later, they're standing in line. Addison stood in between Sam and Dean. There was no way she was going to be left alone at any point in time they were in jail. "My roommate doesn't say much," Dean says.

"I told Sam that he's my prison bitch," Addison replies. She gives Sam a bright smile.

"Dean, this is without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we have ever done," Sam says. "And that's in a long, storied career of dumb and crazy."

"Calm down. It's all part of the plan," Dean tells them.

"Oh really," Addison asks and Dean nods. "So, Henricksen showing up was part of the plan?"

Dean shrugs. "Yeah, the guy moves a little faster than I thought. Look, all we've gotta do is find this ghost, put the sucker down, then grab ourselves a couple of teardrop tattoos."

"That's not funny," Sam says. "Dean, what about this escape plan?"

"It's one hundred percent, a sure thing. I wouldn't have gone in if it wasn't. I mean, come on. This place has all the signs of a haunting. Three innocent people are dead, four so far."

Sam scoffs. "Yeah, innocent."

"You from Texas all of a sudden? Just cause these people are in jail doesn't mean they deserve to die. And if we don't stop this thing, people are gonna continue to die. We do the job wherever it takes us."

"Look, Dean, just be straight with us, all right? You're doing this for Deacon?"

"Damn right."

"And yet you barely know him," Addison continues.

"We know he was in the Corps with Dad. We know he saved Dad's life. We know we owe him."

"Yeah, all right. But don't you think he's asking a little much," Sam counters.

"Doesn't matter. We may not be saints, but we're loyal and we pay our debts. Now, that means something to me and it ought to mean something to you too. Look, I'm not thrilled about this either, man. But Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down, and that's exactly what we're gonna do."

* * *

Addison wrinkles her nose. The food didn't look edible to her. She looks at Sam and sees that he hasn't eaten anything either. Dean, meanwhile, was happily eating everything on the tray in front him. "You know, this chicken isn't half bad," Dean says.

"Great. Finish mine," Sam replies, pushing his tray towards him. Addison pushes her tray forward. "All right, so let's go back over this, Dean. Spirit suspect number one is Mark Moody, right?"

"Yeah, psycho killer extraordinaire — Satanism, ritual murder, died in jail."

"Are you sure that it's him," Addison asks.

"Pretty sure."

"Dean, considering our circumstances, we're gonna need a little bit better than 'pretty sure'," Sam tells him.

"Really pretty sure. Moody died of a heart attack, which is exactly what all the victims in here are dying of. He died in the old cell block, which they closed right after he croaked about thirty years ago. They just opened that back up. That's when the killings started."

"So, his spirit might have been released," Addison asks and Dean nods. "What if he was already cremated?"

"I'm guessing there's something in the old block that belongs to him that's keeping him around. Whatever it is, we've gotta find it and you know the rest." Dean shoves the tray from him. "I'm done."

Dean gets up and Addison and Sam follow suit. On the way out, Addison accidentally bumps into an inmate. "Sorry, I—" she starts.

"Watch where you're going," the inmate interrupts, taking a step towards her.

"Okay. I didn’t—“

"She said she was sorry," Dean says, stepping protectively in front of Addison.

“Dean,” Addison softly warns.

"You talking to me," the inmate demands. "Are you talking to me?"

"Oh, great, another guy whose seen  _Taxi Driver_  one too many times," Dean comments, before turning to the inmate. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go." The inmate turns away.

"Dean, come on," Sam says.

"See, that's how you've gotta talk to these guys. Instant respect."

Sam and Addison notice the inmate talking to another large, tattooed inmate. Addison shuffles closer to Sam as the inmates walk towards Dean. "Uh, Dean. You were saying," Addison says, motioning to the inmates.

Dean turns. "Oh, great." He dodges a punch and grabs the guy in a headlock. "We can end this right now, no harm, no foul."

Addison ducks behind Sam as Dean and the inmate fight. The inmate ends up on the floor. A couple of prison guards approach. "On your feet, Lucas," one of them says.

"Yes, sir, boss," Lucas replies, standing up.

The guard walks over to Dean and shoves a nightstick under his chin. "What's your name?"

"Winchester," Dean replies.

"Well, Winchester, not a good start," the guard says. He looks at the guard. "Solitary. You, too, Lucas."

"We having fun yet, huh," Dean asks them as he's lead out by the guards.

Addison lets out a sigh and leans against Sam. "I really, really hate this," she softly says.

* * *

Addison keeps in the sigh as she sits next to Dean at a table with him and an inmate playing poker. Sam had to do to work detail, so she decided to stick close to Dean during yard time. They had been given a blue jacket to wear over the orange jumpsuits. “Call." Dean says.

The inmate flips over his cards. "Three aces."

A defeated look appears on Dean's face and the inmate starts to take the pile of cigarettes. "That's a bad beat. That is a bad beat. But, see, I'm full." Dean flips over his cards. "Threes over aces." Addison rolls her eyes as he laughs and the inmate angrily bangs the table. "Hey, I'm sorry. It's a cruel game, my friend. Sorry guys." The inmate leaves and is replaced by Sam. "It's like picking low hanging fruit."

"You don't even smoke," Sam counters.

"Apparently, cigarettes are an integral part of prison currency," Addison says.

"Hey, I've gotten a bunch of offers on you," Dean replies.

Addison smirks. She points over to where a big, tattooed man was talking to other inmates. "That guy over there, Tink, offered to give me two packs of cigarettes to get an hour alone with you. He said something about making you his bitch."

"Really? Because someone offered—"

"Look, I got a good lead on Moody," Sam interrupts.

"Yeah. Me, too. His spirit paid a little visit last night."

"What?"

"Clock stopped, flickering lights, cold spot. I mean, he did everything but yell, 'Boo!'"

"So, what happened," Addison asks.

"He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky. I mean, the way he was screaming — guy was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to go like that. What'd you find out on Moody?"

"Yeah, so, I think I know where we might find his remains: blood in his old cell," Sam explains.

"I thought he died of a heart attack," Addison says.

"He did, after the guards worked him over. I mean, apparently, there was so much blood in there, they had trouble mopping it up."

"How're we gonna get in," Dean asks.

"I've got a plan."

"That's the Sammy I know. Come on, man, you're like Clint Eastwood from  _Escape from Alcatraz_."

"The problem is, even if we do find something, how are we gonna burn it? We don't have any accelerant."

"It's a good thing I'm like James Garner from _The Great Escape_." Dean grabs the cigarettes and stands up. "Hey, fellas! Who's ready to deal?”

* * *

"Sam, are you sure about this," Addison asks, as they stand in line to get their lunches. She was worried about him. She also didn't want to be alone in the cafeteria.

"Pretty sure," Sam replies and Addison rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, well, considering out circumstances, I'd like a little better than 'pretty sure,'" Dean counters.

"Okay, really pretty sure." Addison gives the lunch lady a tense smile and takes the tray. She sits down at a table close to the doors, but far enough from the guards. Sam sits down next to her. "Ads...just stay here and I'll be back soon."

Addison gives Sam a soft smile. "Sam, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." Sam pats Addison on the leg. A commotion grabs their attention and they turn to see that Dean had started a fight with another inmate. Addison watches as Sam sneaks off and she lets out a sigh.

After Dean and the inmate are dragged off, things in the cafeteria had started to clam down. One of the guards walks over to her. "Sloan." Addison tensely smiles at him. "C'mon. You got a visitor." She reluctantly follows him. She's actually surprised to learn someone did decide to visit her. "All the way to the end."

Addison nods and walks to the end of the visitor area. She could feel the stares of the other inmates and their visitors. She sits down in the uncomfortable plastic chair and freezes. It had been almost six years since she seen or heard from Wes. Their break up had horrible and deeply hurt her. He looked the same, with slicked back brown hair with natural blonde highlights and bright blue eyes. He wore an expensive suit. Wes picks up the phone and she does the same. "You look good, Addie," he greets. “Considering—”

"How'd you know I was here," Addison demands. Her heart was racing.

“Well, being working for the Justice Department has a few perks. After Henriksen showed up to talk to me, I asked a buddy in the FBI to keep an ear open about you."

Addison tenses. “Why are you here?"

"I want to help."

Addison scoffs. "Help? Wes, the last time I saw you, you called me a whore and said that I deserved to be locked up in a padded cell for the rest of my life."

“I was pissed. I caught you with…” Wesley shakes his head. “Look, I know the way we ended wasn’t on good terms. But I want to help you.”

Addison scoffs. “You want to help me. You know I find that to be complete bullshit. Why are you really here? Hmm. Is it to see with your own eyes that I’m still alive? Because I am and in one piece. Is it because you want to make yourself feel better? You got your perfect life and I’m the one who’s currently sitting in jail.”

“Addison—”

She leans forward. “This is what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go back to New York and forget about me. Because it may have taken me a while, but I figured out that I deserve someone better than—”

“I want to help you, Addison, because I want you to keep your mouth shut,” Wesley snaps. He looks around the visitors area and leans forward. “My future father-in-law is getting ready to run for President of the United States. I’m getting married in two weeks and when my father-in-law becomes President, I will be his chief of staff. So, I will do everything in my power to bury you and the Winchesters. All you have to do is, keep your mouth shut about me and our past relationship.”

Addison stares at him. “Fine.”

* * *

"I had a visitor while you were dealing with the ghost," Addison says, breaking the silence that had settled over hers and Sam's cell that night. She was laying on the top bunk, staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but replay Wes’ visit in her mind.

Sam climbs off his bunk. He puts his arms on the railing of the top bunk. "Who?"

"Wes."

"How'd he—"

"Apparently, Henriksen paid him a visit, so Wes asked a buddy of his in the FBI to keep an ear open about me. And when he heard that we were arrested, he flew out from New York." She sighs and looks at the ceiling. "He said that he wanted to help."

Sam frowns. “Help?”

“Yeah.”

He places a comforting hand on her arm. “Look, Ads, I’m sorry. I mean, I know how hurt you were when he called off your wedding. I’m sure a part of you still cares about him.”

Addison sits up and stares at him. “I never told you about the second time we broke up, did I?”

“Uh, no.”

“We got back together after his dad died. I went to New York to make sure that he was okay and we ended up getting back together. And I tried having a life with him while still hunting.”

“So, what happened?”

“He caught me and Dean in bed. I was working this case with him and your dad in Vermont and after we finished, Dean and I went out for a few drinks and one thing led to another. And Wes decided that he needed to be romantic and show up as a surprise.” Addison sighs. “I didn’t want to be some Upper East Side trophy wife. Doing this job and having a normal life…I’d pick this life any day, Sam.”

Sam grabs her hand and squeezes. “Eventually, something will come along and you’ll change your mind, Ads.”

“Maybe.”

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait," Addison says, shaking her head. Her and the guys were outside in the yard. "You're saying that it wasn't Moody?"

"Unless he liked going around dressed like a nurse," Dean replies. He shakes his head. "Poor Tiny. Poor, giant Tiny."

"So, the ghost is of some nurse that might have worked here or something?"

"I don't know. I guess."

"You know what, Dean," Sam asks. "At this point, 'I don't know, I guess' isn't really working for me. See, I thought we were done. I called Deacon. It's happening. We're getting out tonight."

"I guess we better do some quick research, then."

"How? I mean, maybe you haven't noticed: we're in jail."

"Why don't we just ask someone," Addison asks, looking between the brothers. "Someone in here has to know something."

Minutes later, they're standing in front of an inmate named Randall. "So, you wanna know about some nurse," he asks and Sam nods. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Well, we've got our reasons, but we'll make it worth your while," Dean replies and holds out a pack of cigarettes. Randall takes them. "So, this nurse - she would've had white hair, one screwed-up eye. Is that ringing a bell?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember her."

"Do you remember her name," Addison asks.

"No, that's still kind of fuzzy."

Addison looks at Dean. "I earned these," he counters. The look on Addison's face narrows at him. Dean reluctantly hands Randall another pack of cigarettes.

"Glockner. Nurse Glockner. Nasty old bitch worked here in the seventies."

"You knew her," Sam asks.

"I met her once. I had to get a tetanus shot. She damn near jabbed the needle through the other side of my arm. At least I got out of there alive."

"What do you mean," Addison asks.

"There were these stories, I don't know if they were true. Cons love to talk, but we're all liars."

"What kind of stories?"

"Well, guys would go up to the infirmary with a cold. Next thing you know, they're in a body bag. A whole rash of heart attacks, young guys, old guys."

"Heart attacks," Sam asks.

"Yeah, the story was Glockner had it out for cons, and she did this Charles Bronson thing with a hypodermic. Anyway, that was the rumor. Nobody ever proved anything."

"What ever happened to Glockner," Dean asks.

"I don't know. I finished my bit and left. Next time I landed back in here, she was gone."

* * *

Addison takes a bite of the food. It wasn't the best or the healthiest, but she was hungry and no longer cared. "Okay, so let's say those stories on Glockner were true," Sam comments, ignoring his food tray.

"In life, she's a vigilante. Dead…she's the same thing," Addison says.

"Right. But then, how is she tied in with the old cell block? And if she's going after cons, why kill that one guard?"

"Well, I did hear in the yard that that guard wasn't exactly squeaky-clean, so maybe she's going after anybody that breaks the law. Like me," Dean replies.

"You heard in the yard?"

"Yeah."

"Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?"

Dean shrugs. "No, not really."

"All right, well, listen. Either way, we need more info on Glockner: if she's buried, if so, where? And we've got five hours to get it," Sam says and Dean glares at him. "No, don't give me that look. Don't give me that 'we've gotta see this thing through' look. We are leaving tonight, no matter what."

"I just don't wanna let Deacon down, that's all. I mean we do owe him."

"Yeah, but we don't owe him our lives, Dean."

Dean stands up. "Where are you going," Addison asks him.

"I'm gonna go talk with our lawyer," Dean answers and leaves them sitting at the table.

Addison lets out a sigh. She gives Sam a look. "What," he asks.

"Nothing," Addison softly replies and shakes her head. She knew where Sam's hesitations about staying any longer coming from, but she also knew where Dean was coming from. Over the years, people that had knew Patrick would call her and ask for help. She always made a point to help them. And that had been the argument Dean had used to convince her to agree. But Addison had no desire to spend any more time in jail or be shipped off to a federal prison.

* * *

Addison sees Dean enter the jail yard and drags Sam over to him. "So, did the lawyer go for it," she asks.

"No, not so much," Dean answers. "But maybe she'll still come around."

"Well, we can't wait around to find out," Sam counters.

"We could give it another day."

"No, no, no. We're leaving tonight, and that's it."

"So, we're not gonna finish the job? We're just gonna let these people die?"

"Don't give me that, all right? This was your stupid plan and me and Addison went along with it, but we're sticking to the plan, Dean."

"Okay. You two leave, I'm gonna stay."

Dean starts to walk away. "Hey, don't turn away from me, Dean!"

"Screw you!"

"What? Screw you!"

They start fighting. "Stop," Addison shouts, pushing herself in between them. "Both of you stop!"

Guards come over and pull them apart. Each of them are handcuffed. "All right, hard case," the guard from the other days says to Dean. "I see the usual methods ain't gonna work with you." He looks at Sam and Addison. "You too, sweetheart, princess." They're all lead into a large room in the prison. "Take off. I wanna handle this alone."

The other guard leaves and the one in front angrily looks them over, before smiling and patting Dean on the shoulder. "Deacon, you are beating the holy hell out of me, man," Dean says.

"Sorry, Dean. I thought I was going easy on you," Deacon replies. He takes the handcuffs off of them and Addison rubs her wrists. "Just trying to make it look real."

"Yeah, well, mission accomplished."

"So, is it over?"

"No. Turns out it wasn't Moody," Sam answers.

"What?"

"Yeah?"

"Then who?"

"Some nurse that used to work here, but we don't exactly know everything," Addison explains.

"Which is why we should stick around until we find it," Dean says.

"Oh, hey, guys—" Deacon starts, taking out an envelope.

"You wanna have this fight for real, Dean," Sam demands and Addison rolls her eyes. "We've gotta go. We've gotta go now."

"I'm just saying—"

“Guys—" Deacon tries again.

"We're leaving, Dean. Otherwise, we'll be leaving in shackles for Milwaukee with Henricksen as company," Sam points out.

"Oh come on," Dean replies.

"Shut up," Addison shouts and they look at her.

"Your lawyer left this for you," Deacon says, holding out the envelope.

Dean takes it and opens it. He chuckles. "Would you look at that? Man, I am fucking velvety smooth."

"Uh, Dean, after you're done congratulating yourself, would you mind sharing with the rest of us," Addison asks, annoyed at him.

"Glockner died in the old cell block right after Moody bit it. Seems they had a little inmate uprising, she got caught in the middle. They dragged her to a solitary cell and gave her 'severe cerebral edema.'"

"So someone bashed her skull in."

"Yeah."

"Does it say where she's buried," Sam asks.

"Yep."

"All right, then," Deacon says. "Let's get you the hell out of here."

"Don't worry, Deacon. We'll get rid of this thing."

"Good, cause I want it out of my prison." They all nod. "Guys…I can't thank you enough for this. I know I was asking a lot, but you still came through. Your daddy raised you right."

"Well, we owed you," Sam tells him.

Deacon hugs each of them. And Addison's surprised when Deacon hugs her, but she hugs him back. "Hope to see you again. Just not in here, okay?"

"Well, we'll do the best can," Addison replies.

They start to leave, but Dean stops and turns back to Deacon. "Oh. Where do you want it," Dean asks.

"What," Deacon replies, confused. Dean smirks at him and Deacon nods, pointing to his jaw. "Make it look real, son." Dean punches Deacon and they escape the jail.

Addison lets out a relived sigh when they're outside. The Impala is parked by the exit and Dean grins. "Oh, man, are you a sight for sore eyes. You know, I almost wish I could see Henricksen's face."

"Really," Sam disbelievingly asks. "Cause I'd be happy if I never saw him again. I mean, we're not really out of the woods yet, Dean, you know?"

An alarm comes from inside the jail. "Guys, can we just go," Addison asks and climbs into the backseat of the Impala. Dean and Sam follow, climbing into the front seat. She doesn't look back at the jail as they drive away.

* * *

After stopping to change out of the orange jumpsuits and into regular clothes, they arrive at the cemetery. They grab their gear and head to where the nurse was buried. "We've gotta move it. If Henricksen gets to the lawyer..." Sam trails off.

"I thought she couldn't say anything. You know, that whole lawyer-client privilege thing.” Dean says.

"The privilege doesn't apply, Dean."

"So, she'll talk?"

"She has to."

"Oh, that's fucking super," Dean comments. He looks over at Addison and sees the worried look on her face. He had been the one to talk her into it, even through she used the most valid reasons not to. And Dean was determined not to let anything happen to Addison. They easily find the grave and salt and burn the remains before leaving.

It's only when they're a couple of states over and Sam is inside a motel lobby, getting a room, that Dean turns to Addison. "Hey. I, uh, I really appreciate you helping out. Cause you didn't have to and all."

Addison leans forward and wraps her arms around his neck. "Dean, you're my best friend. And you're the only person I would do something like this for."

"You're not still mad at me, are you?"

"Just remember that I know where you sleep, Winchester."


	20. What Is and What Should Never Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison yawns and leans her head against the window of the Impala. It had been a long day for her and Dean, driving around the middle of nowhere, looking for the victims of their latest case. People had been disappearing from a large area in the middle of Illinois. Her phone starts ringing and she pulls it out. "Hey, Sam,” she tiredly greets, putting it on speaker phone.

"There's a cop car outside," Sam replies.

"You think it's for us," Dean asks.

"I don't know."

"I don't see how. I mean, we ditched the plates, the credit cards."

Sam lets out a relived sigh. "They're leaving. False alarm."

"See? Nothing to worry about."

"Because being fugitives is everyone's idea of a good time," Addison sarcastically says.

Dean laughs. "Hey, chicks dig the danger vibe. Well except you, Ads."

"So, you got anything yet,” Sam asks.

Addison scoffs. "Sam, we've got like fifty square miles to search."

"Well, that's where all the victims disappeared."

"Yeah, well, we got diddly squat,” Dean tells him. "What about you?"

"Just one thing. I'm pretty sure of it now. We're hunting a Djinn."

"A fucking genie?"

"Yep."

"Do they actually grant wishes," Addison amusedly questions.

"I don't know. I guess they're powerful enough. Not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Koran."

"My God. Barbara Eden was hot, wasn't she? Way hotter than that Bewitched chick," Dean comments.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course he isn’t,” Addison says, rolling her eyes. "You know that Dean thinks with his downstairs brain most of the time, Sam." Sam laughs in response, while Dean shrugs. "Where do Djinns like to hide?"

"Ruins, usually — the bigger, the better. More places to hide."

"I think I saw a place a couple miles back," Dean says. "We're gonna go check it out."

"What? No," Addison replies.

"Come pick me up first," Sam tells him.

"No, I'm sure it's nothing. I just wanna take a look around," Dean says, grabbing the phone out of Addison's hand. He hangs up, then tosses it back to her.

“Dean—" Addison begins.

"We're just gonna look around, Ads." Addison shakes her head. Dean glances at her with a concerned look. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"Just making sure. Since you're covering my ass."

"You mean your fat ass." She pokes him in the side. "You need to start laying off the cheese burgers."

Dean smirks. "So, you've been checking out my ass, huh?"

Ten minutes later, they arrive at an abandoned warehouse. As they gather silver knives dipped in lamb's blood and flash lights, Addison looks at the building. Windows were broken, graffiti was on the outside. Silently, they enter the building and spilt up to cover more ground. Broken bottles were on the ground. She didn't even want to think about what else could be on the ground. Not finding anything, Addison starts to make her way back to the front of the building.

She stops when she feels someone watching. Addison glances over her shoulder, but no one's there. She turns back around and sees a man. He wore ragged clothing and a had extremely pale skin. She takes a couple of steps back. The man's tattoos and eyes turn a bright electric blue. Addison turns and takes off down the hallway.

The Djinn follows her and tackles her to the ground. The knife in Addison's hand slides across the floor. She groans in pain as broken bottles cut her stomach. A glowing blue hand touches the back of her head.

* * *

Gasping, Addison sits up. She looks around. She was in a large bedroom, lying on a kingsized bed. A white oak dresser was across from the bed. She could hear water running. Another door was open and Addison glances in to see that it was a walk in closet. She looks behind her and sees a view of a city park. The water stops and the bathroom door opens. Addison stares in disbelief. "Wes?"

Wes grins and walks over to her. He leans down and kisses her. "Morning, babe,” he greets. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah, I — I feel fine," Addison softly replies.

A concerned look crosses Wes' face. "You sure? I'd rather you stay home than go out tonight."

Addison places a hand on his cheek. "Wes, I'm fine."

He kisses her forehead, then pulls back and walks over to the closet. He emerges with a tie. "What time is your dad getting here?"

"Uh, you know my dad. He gets here when he gets here."

"How much do you think Patrick would hate me if I gave him a GPS for Christmas?"

Addison shifts. "He'd probably just throw it in the backseat, Wes."

"You got me there. Well, hopefully, I'll be able to send a couple of criminals to prison today." Wes kisses her. "I love you. 

"Love you too." She watches as he walks out of the bedroom, then looks down at her hand. Her old engagement ring was on her ring finger, along with a simple silver wedding band. After changing into jeans and a white sweater, Addison makes her way downstairs.

The apartment overlooked Central Park. The wood flooring was honey color while the walls were white. Everything in the apartment had a warmth. The home office was different from the rest of the apartment. A glass desk was in the center of the room. A large book shelf was behind it. Addison picks up one of the pictures and smiles. She remembered when it was taken. Her and Wes were wearing their graduation gowns after the ceremony.

Another picture was of just Wes in a graduation gown and she was wearing blue floral dress. There's more pictures of her and Wes with friends and family. Tears form in Addison's eyes as she picks up a picture of her in her wedding dress and standing next to Patrick. She knew it made sense. That if djinn granted wishes, then her father would definitely be alive. A doorbell rings and she quickly wipes the tears away. Taking a deep breath, Addison opens the door. "Dad?"

Patrick Sloan stares at his daughter. He looked exactly like the last time she saw him, only older. "You're not gonna give your old man a hug, birthday girl."

Addison tightly embraces him. Tears fall down her face. "I missed you, Dad."

"I missed you too, Ads." Patrick steps back. He frowns at the tears on her face. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Dad. I just missed you. That's all." She moves back, allowing Patrick to enter. "What do you want to eat?"

"BLT. Heavy on the—"

"B," Addison finishes, grinning. She missed this. "And it's way to early for a Guinness."

Patrick rolls his eyes. "I hate that you keep trying to make me eat healthy, Ads.”

“I’m sorry for you wanting you to live a long and healthy life, Dad. I mean, don’t you want to see your future grandchildren grow up?”

Patrick shakes his head in disbelief. “You know, one day you’re gonna stop using that future grandchildren line.”

Addison laughs. “Never.”

* * *

Addison leans against the doorway of the guest room. Lunch had consisted of her listening to Patrick explain his latest hunt. His weapons were laid out on the dresser. She had spotted a bunch of books in the home office, books that she used for research. "Dad, do you think that a Djinn could actually grant wishes?"

Patrick glances at her, a smile on his face. "Research for your next paper?"

She blinks, remembering the office filled with law books and mythology books. “Uh, yeah."

"They don't grant wishes, Ads."

"Well, theoretically, they could, right?"

Patrick sits down on the bed. He motions for her to sit down next to him. "Addison, when my dad was traveling after the war, he stopped in Tangier. While he was there, he heard rumors of people going missing after entering an abandoned building. Even through he was gonna catch a ferry up to Spain the next day, Dad decided to stay and help. He was attacked by a Djinn."

"How'd he fight it off?"

"When a Djinn attacks someone, the victim ends up in a world where they have their deepest desire. Dad ended up in a world where he had a family with his high school sweetheart, who was a Navy nurse that died during the attack on Pearl Harbor. So, when Dad realized what had happened, he knew that the only way to leave that world was that he had to kill himself. Because it was a dream, even through it felt real."

Addison tenses. ”So, what was happening in the real world?"

"Djinns live off of human blood. While the victim is living a life in the dream world, the Djinn is drinking their blood. It's only a matter of days in the real world, but a lifetime for the victim."

"Why didn't granddad stay in the dream world?"

"Because as much as he wanted to, Ads, he knew it wasn't real. Besides if he did stay, he would've died. And then neither of us would be here."

Patrick stands up and reaches into duffel bag. He pulls out a brightly colored box and hands it to her. "Dad, you didn't have to get me anything."

"Just open it."

Addison rips off the paper and opens the box. The box is filled with old journals. She picks up a journal and flips through it. Tears form in her eyes. She shakes her head. "Dad, I can't take—"

"You can and you will. Just be prepared to have me and every other hunter call for help."

She smiles, then it looks at the ground. "Have you heard from Dean or Sam?"

Patrick sighs. "I swear, those boys are gonna be the death of me. The Feds are looking for them. Sam was possessed by a demon. I'm surprised he didn't call you."

"Why would Sam call me?"

"He and Dean were in San Francisco a couple of days ago, hunting a werewolf. Sam...well, he really wanted to save the girl that was bit, but..."

"There's no cure," Addison softly finishes.

Patrick runs a hand over his face. "I got lucky. Most people aren't bitten by pureblood werewolves." He places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He'll be okay, Ads. Hey, when are you and Wes gonna give me the grandchildren you keep using?"

Addison's face turns bright red. "Dad."

* * *

Laughter rings out the table. Addison smiles over the wine glass. Instead of going out for dinner, like she thought they were doing, Wes brought home take out from a sushi restaurant. Wes smirks and wipes wasabi on her cheek. "Wes!" Addison hits his arm.

"See, how your daughter treats me," Wes amusedly asks Patrick.

Patrick laughs. "Haven't you learned that she treats everyone like that."

"You're not supposed to gang up on me on my birthday," Addison tells them. She rolls her eyes and stands up as they continue laughing. "Well, in that case, I'm going to bed. And you two have to clean up."

Patrick nods and stands up. "It is getting late." He kisses Addison's cheek. "Happy birthday."

"Night, Dad." Addison turns to Wes. "You're cleaning up."

"Babe," Wes says. She shakes her head and walks over to the stairs. "Babe!" Contacts are removed. Make up and wasabi is wiped off. Arms wrap around her waist. Addison leans against Wes' chest. "Happy birthday."

She softly smiles at him. "It feels like this is the best birthday I've had in years."

"I didn't think anything could top the year we spent your birthday in Ireland with your dad."

Addison turns around in his arms. She softly smiles at him. There was no way that she could deny a small part of her had missed him; missed being in his arms. Even after everything that had happened between them. “How was work,” Addison asks as his hands slide under her sweater.

“No talk of work tonight. We have to work on the future children,” Wes mutters against her neck.

Addison tenses and moves away from him. “Maybe another night. I’m not feeling good right now." She shoots him a forced smile and ducks into the bathroom. She lets out a deep breath and runs a hand over her face. “This — this is not real.”

* * *

Addison tightens her grip on the phone as she walks around the home office. She recognized some of the books on the shelf, but most of them were unfamiliar. "Have you decided to ditch the yuppie yet,” Dean greets and Addison can't help but smile.

"Hate to burst your bubble, but no," Addison amusedly replies. "I wanna to see how you guys were. My dad told me about what happened in San Francisco."

Dean groans. "If you wanted to have a chick flick moment, Ads, then you should've called Sam."

"All right, I will. Where are you guys headed to anyway?"

"LA. Time for a little R&R."

"Well, just remember that you can always come visit me."

"Ads, you remember the last time me and the yuppie were in a room together?"

Addison laughs. “You know eventually you’re gonna have to get along with him. Next time you're on my side of the country, let me know. I can get away for a few days and help out on a job. I'll bring the beer."

“Deal. But none of that shit the yuppie drinks. Get the real stuff.”

“Dude, I know what kind of beer you like.”

“I know that.” Dean clears his throat. “So, you helping out on a job, would it include the two of us getting some much needed exercise?”

Addison laughs. “Yeah, I think it would.”

* * *

Addison sits down on the bench with two hot dogs. She had been out doing errands for Patrick, when Wes called and asked to meet her for lunch. He grins at her and kisses her cheek. "I swear, I get to work in the morning and then I don't leave until it's time to go home."

"Well, you work in the DA's office, Wes," Addison counters.

"At least my beautiful, sexy wife saved me from another day inside."

"Beautiful and sexy. Hmmm. Did your mother call and ask us over for dinner?"

"She called to bug me about when we're gonna give her a grandchild."

Addison laughs. "Then your mom and my dad must be conspiring together. Because he was quizzing me about it yesterday after he got here."

"If Patrick and Mom conspired to do anything, then the world's gonna end. Imagine their faces if we actually told them we're trying to have a baby."

Addison's smile falters, but it goes unnoticed by Wes. "Well, your mom would barge in and design a nursery."

"Patrick would buy a Red Sox t-shirt." Wes' phone beeps. He takes it out and groans. "Fuck. My boss needs me." He kisses Addison. "I will see you at home, babe. Love you."

"Love you too." She watches as he runs back across the street. Addison could feel the tears start to form, but she takes a deep breath and forces them down.

* * *

It had been unsurprisingly easy to find lamb's blood in New York City. And Patrick had plenty of sliver knives in his arsenal. Addison walks into the home office. As much as she wanted to stay in the dream world, she knew she couldn't. And she knew that she would stay if she didn't leave now. She opens the jar and dips the tip of the knife in the blood. The door opens and Wes walks in. "What are you doing here," Addison asks, hiding the knife behind her back.

"I got off work early," Wes answers, walking over to the desk. He notices the jar. "Is that blood?"

She sighs and shows him the knife. "Lamb's blood."

"Okay. Why do you have a knife covered in lamb's blood?"

"Because none of this is real, Wes. And I have to go back to the real world."

"Addie, give me the knife."

Tears stream down her face. "No."

"Addie, please. Give me the knife."

"No."

Wes grabs her face and kisses her. "This is real, Addie. Here. With me."

She looks up at him. She could feel her heart breaking. "I love you. I will always love you, Wes. But this isn't real."

"Addison, give me the knife." Addison holds the knife inches from her stomach. "Addison!" She pushes the knife into her stomach.

Addison gasps and looks around the room. Her arms were tied above her head. Sam was standing in front of her. "Addison," Sam breathes out.

"Sam," Addison sobs. Sam undoes the chains around her wrists. He scoops her up and holds her against his chest. "You gotta...find Dean."

"He's in the car. Along with the girl."

"Oh."

* * *

Addison throws back her forth shot. A couple of days had passed since the djinn hunt. Dean had revealed that his wish world had been one where Mary Winchester had never died. But what had driven him out was that he and Sam weren’t close. Addison had told the boys about her father being alive in her wish world. She hadn’t told them about Wes and she wanted nothing more than to forget about it. But she couldn’t. “I think you’ve had enough.”

Addison turns and sees Dean standing behind her. “You’re lecturing me about drinking?”

Dean nods as he sits down on the empty stool next to her. “Fair enough.”

“Where’s Sam?”

“Back at the motel room.” He waves the bartender over. “Whiskey, double. And another of whatever she’s been drinking.”

“So, I know why I’m drinking. But why are you?”

Dean picks up his whiskey. “You were dead.”

Addison frowns. “What?”

“In my wish world, you were dead. I never hunted. So, all the people we helped were dead.”

“Including me,” Addison softy says.

“Yeah.”

Addison throws back her tequila shot. “I was married to Wes in my wish world. I was happy. I had a successful career. My dad was alive. You and Sam were still hunting.”

“So, why didn’t you stay?”

She turns to him. “Because I never wanted that life, Dean. I’d take our shit lives over that any day. Just because I’m in a world that most people would consider to be perfect doesn’t change how I feel. Besides I’m pretty sure that even in that world, we were still sleeping together. So, it obviously wasn’t perfect.”

Dean smirks. “So, even in a wish world we’re still fuck buddies, huh.”

“Yeah.” Addison slides off her stool. “I’m gonna be waiting in the Impala.” 

Dean watches as she walks off. He sits there for a moment, then tosses some money on the bar and goes after her.


	21. All Hell Breaks Loose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Dean pulls up in front of a diner in a small town. The parking lot was packed and it was pouring down raining. Dean pulls out a twenty and gives it to Sam. "Hey, don't forget the extra onions this time, huh?"

"Forget the extra onions, Sam.” Addison says and Dean glares at her. "Hey, we're the ones that have to ride in the car with your extra onions."

Sam laughs and gets out of the Impala. "Hey, see if they've got any pie," Dean shouts and Sam glares at him. "Bring me some pie! I love me some pie."

"Dean, your love of pie rivals that of Jason Biggs."

"Hey, I would never do that to a pie. Besides, I can find a real woman." Static comes over the radio. Dean fiddles with it for a moment before turning it off.

Addison rolls her eyes and looks up at the diner. "Dean." He looks up and sees what was once a full diner, was now entirely empty. "Yeah, that's not normal."

"No shit," Dean replies, climbing out of the Impala. He glances back to see Addison still sitting there. "You coming?"

"In this weather?"

Dean throws his hands up in frustration and walks over to the diner. Entering the diner, he could see that a customer was dead and lying in a pool of blood. "Sam?" He pulls out his gun as he find more people dead. "Sam!" Dean walks out of the back door, but doesn't find anything. He starts to move back into the diner, but stops. A yellowish substance was on the ground. He kneels down and touches it. "Sulfur."

He runs back over to the Impala and climbs into the front seat. "Dean, what's going on," Addison asks, concern on her face.

“Demons.”

* * *

Addison lets out an exasperated sigh. Dean had spent the entire night driving to meet up with Bobby. She had been on the phone with both Bobby and Ash, hoping to find any clue to where Sam might have been taken. Dean spots the truck on the side of the road and pulls over in front of it. Bobby climbs out of the truck as they climb out of the Impala. The older hunter spreads a map out onto the trunk of the Impala. "This is it. All the demonic signs and omens over the past month," Bobby explains.

"Are you joking," Dean questions. The map was blank. "There's nothing here."

"So, there's been no exorcisms or anything," Addison asks.

"Nothing," Bobby replies. "It's completely quiet."

"Well, how are supposed to look for Sam," Dean asks. "What, do we just close our eyes and point?"

"Dean, relax," Addison tells him. "We're gonna find Sam."

Addison's phone suddenly rings. Dean grabs it out of her hoodie pocket before she had a chance to take it out. "Ash, what do you got?" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Oh, come on, man! You gotta give us something. We're looking at a three thousand mile haystack here. Well, what? Come on, I don't have time for this!" Dean hangs up and tosses the phone back at Addison. "I guess we're going to the Roadhouse. Come on."

Addison sends Bobby an apologetic look then climbs into the front seat of the Impala. "Dean, I know you're worried about Sam," she says, putting a comforting hand on his arm. "We both are. And we are going to find him. But you need to relax."

He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. Then Dean's starting the Impala and they're speeding down the two lane highway. Addison sighs and settles in for the drive.

* * *

Dean shares a stunned look with Addison as they pull into the crowded parking of the Roadhouse. Instead of the bar they expected, nothing was there. They climb out as Bobby gets out of his truck. They walk towards where the main door used to be only to find a pile of burnt rubble. "Oh my God," Addison softly says.

Dean glances at her. Addison stands back, watching as Bobby and Dean look through the debris. "You see Ellen," Dean asks.

"No. No Ash, either," Bobby answers.

Then Dean spots something. A watch sitting on top of a pile of burnt debris. He kneels down. It was Ash's watch. He picks up the watch and finds it on a charred wrist. "Ash, damn it!"

Taking a deep breath, Addison walks towards the debris. "Ash..." she trails off. "He's...isn't he?"

"Yeah."

Addison shakes her head, trying to hold back the tears. While there were moments when she found Ash annoying, especially the moments when he hit on her, she did like him. And she knew that no one deserved to die like he did. "This is..." Bobby trails off.

"What the hell did Ash know? We've got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she's even alive. We've got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?"

"Dean, we'll find him," Addison softly says as he walks past her. She follows him and grabs his arm. "Dean, we are—" Dean grabs his head in pain. Bobby quickly joins them. "Dean?" Dean groans and bends over.

"What was that?” Bobby asks.

"I don't know. A headache," Dean replies.

"You get headaches like that a lot?"

Dean shakes his head. "No. Must be the stress. I could have sworn I saw something."

"You mean like a vision," Addison asks.

"What? No!"

"Maybe it—"

"Come on, Ads, I'm not some psychic."

"Well, Sam has visions. Maybe it's genetic or something."

Dean grabs his head again. He leans against the Impala. He sees things, including Sam. "Dean," Bobby questions. "Dean! Are you with us?"

Panting, Dean nods. "Yeah, I think so. I saw Sam. I saw him."

"So, it was a vision," Addison states.

"Yeah. I don't know how, but yeah." He takes a deep breath. "Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels."

"What else did you see," Bobby asks.

"Uh...there was bell."

"What kind of bell?"

"Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don't know."

"Engraving," Addison disbelievingly asks.

"Yeah."

"Was it as tree," Bobby questions. "Like an oak tree?"

Dean looks up at him. "Yeah, exactly."

"I know where Sam is."

"Where," Addison asks.

"Cold Oak, South Dakota."

* * *

Addison zips up her leather jacket. Dean hands her her gun and a silver knife. She shoves the gun in the back of her jeans and puts the knife in her pocket. Despite it being spring, it still very much felt like winter in the northern South Dakota. They were parked on the side of the road and had to continue to journey to Cold Oak on foot. Dean grabs his shotgun and slams the Impala's trunk closed. "Let's go."

For once, Addison's silent as they trudge through the woods. She hated it and always loudly voiced her complaints whenever the chance. But she's silent and for once, Dean misses the complaints from Addison. They emerge from the woods to a small, abandoned, Old West town. "Sam," Dean shouts. He grins, seeing his missing brother walking towards him.

"Dean," Sam shouts back. Addison smiles, happy that he looked okay.

Dean notices a man running towards Sam. "Sam, look out!" But it's too late. The man stabs Sam in the back. "No!" Addison freezes as Sam falls to his knees. Dean runs over to Sam. He kneels down and tightly embraces him. Neither Dean or Addison notice Bobby running after the man that stabbed Sam. "Sam!"

Sam's head falls onto Dean's shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, Sam. Sam! Hey! Come here. Let me look at you." He touches Sam's back. His hand is covered in blood. "Hey, look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam!"

Addison's frozen to the spot. "Hey, listen to me," Dean tells Sam. "We're gonna patch you up, okay? You're gonna be good as new. I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain the ass little brother? Sam? Sam! Sammy!" Sam's eyes close and he slumps against Dean. "No. No, no, no, no. Oh, God. Sam!"

Addison could the tears falling. Slowly, she walks over them. She places her hand on Dean's shoulder. She had no idea what to say. No idea what to do. "We need to get him to the car," she softly tells him. Dean stands up, without letting go of Sam's body. She moves to help him, but Dean begins the trek back to the Impala alone.

She stands there, waiting for Bobby. "I couldn't..." Bobby trails off, seeing the look on Addison's face. He didn't need to ask. Her reaction was all he needed. "Dean take him back to the car?"

“Yeah." Addison shakily answers. Silently, the two of them make their way to the Impala. Dean's standing next to the Impala, staring in at the backseat where he had placed Sam's body.

* * *

Addison enters the abandoned house, clutching a bucket of chicken. For some strange reason, she felt comfort from the fried chicken. She had gotten up early that morning and had gotten Bobby to take her to an early morning mass. It wasn't until after she had lit candles for her parents that she had finally broken down. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry until she had couldn't anymore. But she knew that she couldn't do that. Not now at least.

Bobby followed her into a room. Her grip tightens on the bucket. Dean sat at a table, empty bottles of beer and liquor around him. Sam's lifeless body was lying on a mattress. The same spot it had been for the past two days. “Hey." Addison softly says, placing the bucket on the table. "We brought you some back."

"No thanks. I'm fine,” Dean answers, not taking his gaze off of Sam.

"You should really eat something."

"I said I'm fine."

"Dean...I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time...we bury Sam,” Bobby says.

"No."

"We could maybe..."

"What? Torch his corpse,” Dean coldly replies. "Not yet."

"I want you to come with us."

"I'm not going anywhere."

“Dean," Addison says, blinking back the tears. She reaches out and places a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Please."

Dean shrugs off her hand and Addison steps back. "Would you two cut me some slack?"

"We just don't think you should be alone, that's all.” Bobby tells him. "I gotta admit — I could use your help. Something big is going down — end-of-the world big."

"Well, then let it end," Dean shouts, standing up.

"Dean, you don't mean that," Addison says. Tears were streaming down her face.

"You don't think so! Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough," Dean angrily says, moving closer to Addison. "I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, Addison, turn around, and get the fuck out of here! Go!" He shoves her back. Addison turns and runs out of the house. Dean rubs his face, realizing what he just did. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just go."

Bobby shakes his head. "You know where we'll be," he tells him and walks out of the house. He sees Addison standing at the trunk of the Impala, rummaging around and walks over to her.

"I — I gotta...get my...stuff," Addison says, taking deep breaths. She lets out a strangled sob and Bobby places a comforting hand on her shoulder. She takes a deep breath and nods. She quickly gathers all of her stuff and slams trunk lid closed. Silently, Bobby leads Addison to his car and opens the door. She climbs into the passenger seat and covers her face as she lets out a sob.

* * *

Addison wipes the steam from the mirror. Her hair looked darker; her skin seemed paler. Red circles were around her eyes. She was exhausted. From crying to helping Bobby do research. A knock comes from the door and Addison sighs. She grips the towel wrapped around her body as she walks over to the door. "Bobby, I'm..." Addison trails off after she opens the door. Standing in front of her, alive and breathing was Sam. She reaches up and tightly embraces him. "You're alive."

"Yeah. Dean said I was touch—" Sam's interrupted when Addison kisses him. She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she did. His lips were slightly chapped. She was standing on her tiptoes since he had a good foot on her in height. Addison pulls back and they stare at each other.

"I — I, uh, I gotta get dressed," Addison says, stepping back. Sam nods and she closes the door as he walks away. She quickly dresses and walks down stairs to find Sam alone. "Where's Bobby and Dean?"

"Dean's helping Bobby bring in some more books." Addison nods. Then she's hugging him for a second time. His strong arms hold her against his chest. He feels her tears on his neck. “Ads—"

"I thought you were gone," Addison whispers.

"I'm fine, Ads. I mean, Dean said that I was touch and go, but that Bobby was able to patch me up. But I'm fine."

"I'm just happy that you're okay, Sam." Addison pulls back. She takes a deep breath sits down next to Sam at the table. A map of Wyoming, the same one her and Bobby had been working on, was spread out across the table. "Did you find anything different?"

The door opens and they turn to see Bobby and Dean enter the house. Addison wanted nothing more than to yell at Dean. It didn't take a genius to know that he was behind Sam's resurrection or that it probably involved a demon. But she settled for glaring at him. Then she sees Ellen enter behind them. Addison's up and embracing Ellen before anyone says anything. "Good to see you, Addison," Ellen softly greets.

Addison smiles at her. "Just happy to see that you're alive, Ellen."

Ellen sits down in the seat Addison was sitting in. Addison grabs another chair and pulls it up to the table. Bobby places a shot glass in front of Ellen and fills it with water. "Bobby, is this really necessary?"

"Just a belt of Holy water," Bobby replies. "Shouldn't hurt."

Ellen drinks the Holy water, then slams the glass on the the table. "Whiskey now, if you don't mind."

"Ellen, what happened," Dean asks. "How'd you get out?"

"I wasn't supposed to. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else." Ellen scoffs. "But we ran out of pretzels, of all things. It was just dumb luck." Bobby pours whiskey in the glass and she throws it back. "Anyway, that's when Ash called. Panic in his voice. He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky high. And everybody was dead. I couldn't have been gone more than fifteen minutes."

"I'm so sorry, Ellen," Addison softly says.

Ellen takes a deep breath, trying to keep back the tears. "A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live. Lucky me."

"Ellen, you mentioned a safe," Bobby says.

"A hidden safe we keep in the basement."

"Demons get what was in it?"

"No."

Ellen pulls out a map out of her pocket. She unfolds it and spreads it out on the table, on top of the other map. There were lines and X's on it. "Wyoming," Dean states. "What does that mean?"

"I've seen something like this before," Addison softly says, then runs out of the house. Bobby stares at the map for a moment, then grabs a book off his desk. Addison runs back into the house and puts down a thick, black journal on the table. She flips through the journal. Bobby joins her. He looks at the journal, but couldn't understand a word that was written. "Here. Every X is a church built by Samuel Colt in the 1860s."

"Samuel Colt — the demon-killing, gun making Samuel Colt?"

"Yeah. And he built a private railroad to connect them." Addison grabs a marker and draws the lines of the railroad between all the X's.

"Tell me that's not what I think it is."

"It's a Devil's Trap," Sam disbelievingly states. "A hundred square mile Devil's Trap."

"That's brilliant. Iron lines demons can't cross."

"I've never heard of anything that massive," Ellen says.

"No one has," Bobby replies.

"And after all these years none of the lines are broken? I mean, it still works," Dean asks.

“Definitely," Sam answers.

"How do you know?"

"All those omens Bobby found. I mean the demons, they must be circling and they can't get in."

"Yeah, well...they're trying," Bobby counters.

"Why? What's inside," Ellen questions, looking at Addison.

"Uh." Addison flips through a couple of pages in the journal. "Just a cemetery. Either Colt didn't tell great-great-granddad Elijah or it was way too important a secret to write down."

Dean stares at Addison. "I thought your entire family lived in Ireland?"

"They did until the Great Famine hit. A lot of families immigrated to America and other countries during that time period. Elijah was the first Sloan to be born outside of Galway. When Elijah and his older brother, Jacob, heard rumors of a civil war, they moved west to the Dakota Territory where they met Samuel Colt and worked for him."

"What's so important about a cemetery or...what's Colt trying to protect," Sam asks. Addison shrugs.

"Well, unless..." Dean trails off.

"Unless what," Bobby asks.

"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep demons out? What if he was trying to keep something in?"

"Well, that's a comforting thought," Ellen comments.

"Yeah, you think?"

"Could they do it," Sam asks, looking at Addison. "Could they get inside?"

"No demon could get in," Addison says. Her heart drops. "But a regular non possessed person..."

"Then it could be anybody," Ellen states.

"No," Sam says. "I know who it'll be."

* * *

Addison grips her gun as the African-American man enters the cemetery and heads towards the crypt a few feet behind her. Sam was next to her, while Bobby and Ellen were behind them. "Howdy, Jake," Sam greets as he, Addison, Ellen, and Bobby all leave their hiding spots. Dean stands up from where he was crouched besides a tomb. All of them had guns pointed a Jake. Sam had explained what happened in Cold Oak to Addison during the drive to the cemetery from Bobby's house. She had been sad about what had happened to Andy, who she considered a nice guy.

"Wait...you were dead," Jake disbelievingly replies. "I killed you."

Sam tightens his grip on the gun. "Yeah? Well next time, finish the job."

"I did! I cut clean through your spinal cord, man." Addison sees Sam look over at Dean. "You can't be alive. You can't be."

"Okay, just take it real easy there, son," Bobby says.

"And if I don't?"

"Wait and see," Sam tells him.

"What? You a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do — kill me?"

"It's a thought."

"You had your chance. You couldn't.

"I won't make that mistake twice."

Jake laughs. "What are you smiling at, you little bitch," Dean angrily asks.

Addison doesn't like the look that Jake gives her. "Hey, Red, do me a favor. Put that gun to your head." Addison struggles not to move her arm, but it's like an invisible force lifts her arm up and presses the cold metal of her gun against her head. "See that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi minds tricks you can learn."

Anger surges through Sam. "Let her go."

"Sam," Addison softly says. He looks at her. "Do it. Shoot him."

"You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off," Jake warns. "Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart." Dean, Sam, Bobby, and Ellen all drop their guns. Out of the corner of her eye, Addison can see Dean carefully making his way over to her. "Okay. Thank you."

Jake walks to the crypt. He pulls the Colt out of his pocket. The intricate design on the crypt's had a hole big enough for the muzzle of the Colt. Suddenly, Dean yanks Addison's wrist away from her head and a gun shot goes off. More shots are fired. Jake's lying on the ground, gasping for air. Sam shoots him a few more times. Panting, Addison watches as the design on the crypt door spins in different directions. Then it stops.

"Oh, no," Bobby states.

"Bobby, what is it," Ellen asks.

"It's Hell." Dean grabs the Colt out of the crypt door. "Take cover — now!"

They barely duck behind headstones as the doors open. Black smoke flies around them. "What the hell just happened?"

"It's the Devil's Gate," Addison tells him. Dean shoots her a questioning look. "A door to Hell."

"Come on," Ellen shouts. "We gotta shut that gate!"

Ellen, Addison, Bobby, and Sam rush over to the gate. Addison and Sam take one side while Ellen and Bobby take the other side. The four of them struggle to close the door against the force coming out of Hell. "Dean," Sam shouts and runs over to where Dean was lying against a tombstone.

Addison slides back. She was pushing as hard as she could. She glances over her shoulder and sees Sam pinned against a tree. The three of them finally get the doors closed. Addison looks back over her shoulder to see John Winchester standing there, with his hand on Dean's shoulder. Sam nods at him. John steps back and disappears. They stand back, allowing Dean and Sam alone time by the demon's body.

Addison turns to Bobby. "Bobby, how'd much time did Dean get?"

Bobby stares at her for a moment, silently debating whether he should tell her or let Dean do it. "A year."

Addison nods, turning her gaze back to the ground. She wanted nothing more than to go right up to Dean and punch him in the face; to even yell at him. But she knew it would accomplish nothing but a sore hand and sore throat. The Yellow Eyed Demon was finally dead. Taking a deep breath, Addison walks up to the brothers. It was obvious that Sam had forced Dean to tell him what happened. "What do we do now," she asks.

"Well," Ellen begins walking up with Bobby. "Yellow Eyed Demon might be dead. But a lot more got through that gate."

"How many you think," Dean asks.

"A couple hundred at the least," Addison answers.

"It's an army. He's unleashed an army," Sam tells them.

"Hope to hell you three are ready," Bobby says. "Cause the war has just begun."

"Well, then." Dean walks over to the Impala and opens the trunk. He tosses the Colt in and slams it shut. "We got work to do."


End file.
